6: Time For A Hero
by nurzubesuch
Summary: If you had a chance to change the biggest mistakes of your past … would you do it? Or would the consequences be too disastrous to even try? But what if the pull of fate is just too strong to avoid and it just doesn't give you a choice?
1. Mistakes of the Past

**Once again, my dear faithful friends and readers, we´ve come here together to indulge in a story. And I still don´t believe that this insanity is still going on. So let´s not question this luck that we have but enjoy it, shell we? Here we go.**

**Disclaimer: I don´t own anything.**

* * *

**Mistakes of the Past**

The crowd was cheering. The headlights were hot on Shawn´s skin and he felt good, anticipating the big moment, the one moment that was always the best when solving a crime. The two people came up the stage, taking the two crones from Gus and sat down in their thrones, the thrones of king and queen of the prom.

"Looks like history repeated itself." Shawn spoke into the microphone and got a heartily laughter for it. Even the two crowned people laughed and he smiled brightly at them. "Those crowns sure are heavy." he announced and Gus agreed with him. They smiled.

Shawn turned back to the crowd and went straight from praising to accusing. "Heavy with lies." he said dramatically. The smiles in their faces were immediately wiped away.

"You see my fellow alumni." Shawn went on. "One of your classmates was murdered here tonight. His name was Peter Colter. Smart kid. He was a whiz at fixing cars. He was also the water boy for the football team. The reason you probably don´t remember him very well is because he lived in their shadow." he pointed at the prom queen and king, who by now looked very uncomfortable in their thrones.

"He worshiped them." Shawn told the crowd. "He´d do anything for them, including taking a rap for a tragic car accident that was actually caused by Howie."

Shawn turned away from the microphone and walked around the thrones until he stood right behind Howie Masterson, the king of the evening. Or so he´d thought.

"And you let him do it." Shawn addressed him, not needing the microphone to be heard. "Because you didn´t want to lose your precious scholarship. Poor Peter´s live stuck in that moment. He never recovered. That´s why he didn´t show up to take his yearbook photo and that´s why he moved away and ended up committing petty crimes. Meanwhile the two of you moved on to UCLA, you married your Prom Queen and probably never gave your old friend Peter another thought." He raised his hand to his temple. "That is … until about a month ago, isn´t that right, Eileen?"

He saw the resignation sinking into the conscience of the woman that sat on the throne before him and her husband was not much better off. Shawn went on, telling the rest of the story to the audience until he came to the great finale, recapturing the murder itself. He could see on Howie´s and Eileen´s faces that he was spot on with the way he described it.

The faces he saw in the audience were confused and disturbed by what they´d just heard and when Lassiter and Juliet walked through them, the officer´s following behind to arrest the culprits, they started mumbling to each other in concerned voices.

"Three arrests in one night." Lassiter commented when he entered the stage. "Not bad. Please tell me you have the body." he whispered at Shawn.

"It´s the fury Sabercat backstage." Shawn told him and made the detective very happy with that.

"Homicide Howie, ladies and gentlemen." Shawn announced and made the crowd perform an uncertain applause, while Lassiter and Juliet cuffed the two culprits and led them off the stage.

But Shawn was not quiet done yet. The case was solved and closed but there was some more he needed to do tonight and he would do it now or never. He faced the audience once again and spoke into the microphone.

"And now I´d just like to take the opportunity to thank someone who is not only responsible for planning all of this tonight, complete with a Rastafarian theme that you all embraced so heartily, but who is also the mastermind behind solving tonight´s crime."

He could see the disturbed and surprised look on his best friend´s face, as well as the slightly surprised faces of his parent´s, down in the crowd. And Abigail of course, who was watching him with that sweet sweet smile of her´s. The one that he´d let go, so many years ago.

"I know it´s true, I´m the psychic." he kept talking. "But oftentimes my revelations are nothing but a cryptic mess. Tonight for instance all I could see was scenes from Pretty in Pink, a giant rhombus and a t-shirt that read: "Soccer Moms are easy." Now I don´t know what these things mean, but Gus is somehow able to shape them into cold, hard evidential facts. But that is not what makes him great … no, sir."

He looked at his buddy next to him and he could tell that Gus was totally flabbergasted by what he was hearing. Shawn went on.

"Burton Guster has been my friend since we were five. And maybe, just maybe, if any of you can look at yourselves in the mirror and know, that you´ve been only half as good a friend to someone else, as Gus has been to me … you too can be considered great. So give it up. For my best friend. Burton Guster."

He didn´t need to start the clapping this time. The crowd applauded all on its own when Gus stepped to his side, smiling widely now and not a bit confused anymore. He threw Shawn a glance and they understood each other. Shawn nodded at him, not saying a single word. But Gus understood it anyway. That was for you, buddy.

His eyes flew over the audience and saw a few faces that were more than just random old classmates, he barely remembered. His parents in the back, their eyes watery and touched. Lassiter and Juliet somewhere in the middle, their gazes approving and calm. And Abigail. Always back to Abigail. The girl he´d let go when he hadn´t been wise enough to avoid this mistake. God, how much he hated it sometimes, the fact that one couldn´t reverse the past.

In his pocket his cell phone started to vibrate, telling him that he´d received a text message. He got it out and looked at the display.

"_Hey, there. If you bought a house from Keanu Reeves two years ago and wonder how you could reach him … send him a letter. - IMU"_

Shawn frowned and skimmed the crowd again. No one down there stroke him as the writer of this strange message. But on the other hand, how could he be sure? Instead of wondering, he just wrote back: _"Hey you. Good reference. Who are you?"_

The answer came quick enough but it was only three letters: _"IMU"_ beneath it was a winking smiley, with a tongue sticking out. Shawn chuckled.

"You don´t wanna tell me, huh?" he mumbled to himself but was far from giving up. So he wrote again.

"_Not even a tip?"_

The answer was confusing again. It read: "_In time."_

Shawn wrote: _"Aw, come on, dude, where are you? Wave once for yes, twice for no."_

He sent the message and looked over the crowd if someone was reading a message on his or her cell phone. No one did. He got another answer. A smiley and beneath that: _"You´ll figure it out in time. Until then, just follow the instructions."_

Shawn frowned. _"What instructions?"_ he wrote but only got the same cryptic answer again.

"_In time. Just remember. There are things that can be undone."_

And that was it. Nothing more. He tried to get another answer but the other one just wouldn´t send anymore messages. Shawn looked down on his cell phone and frowned. What the hell had that been? A prank? To finalize his high school reunion? What a lame prank would that be?

His eyes found Abigail in the crowd again. She looked at him as if she was still waiting. Still after all those years, since he´d left her at the pier. There are things that can be undone. Shawn sighed. Maybe that was right. Maybe. And maybe he wasn´t quiet done for tonight either.

So he packed his cell phone away and made his way down the stage to meet her in the crowd. Maybe he couldn´t change his mistakes in the past but he could change the outcome of this night. And he had to make an apology before it was over.

**...**

Today:

Juliet O´Hara was just in the process of typing the last words of her latest case report, when her cell phone rang. She took it out of her pocket without stopping in her typing and answered it, as casually as she´d picked it up.

"Hello." she said, still typing.

"Juliet." a totally unexpected voice said. "It´s me."

The endless run of her fingers over the keyboard stopped in an instant. Her eyes darted around the station to make sure no one was in hearing distance.

"This …" she started, lowering her voice even more to be extra sure no one would hear her making a private call while she was on duty. "This is not the right time." she told her caller. "I´m at work."

A heavy silence was all she got for a response and this worried her more than every answer could have done it. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"I just … needed to hear a friendly voice."

Juliet blinked in sympathy, feeling bad for her harsh greeting. "Are you alone?" she asked.

"Yeah. At the moment."

"You shouldn´t be. Isolation only makes it worse."

"I know."

Juliet sighed. That wasn´t good. He didn´t get better at all. She´d thought he would, had hoped he would, but it didn´t happen. Not really. No matter how much he tried to kid himself. Damn, why did he have to be so stubborn?

"Maybe you _should_ talk to someone." she suggested again. "A specialist. Someone who can …"

"No one would understand that." he insisted, once again. "That´s why I´m talking to you. You understand. You went through the same ordeal I did. Only you never gave up hope."

"That´s not true." Juliet replied. "I gave up hope, not for long but I did. When Carlton was stabbed in that allay … I didn´t know what to do. I thought we´d lost. But we didn´t lose. We won. We beat them and we´re all alive. And it´ll stay that way. We´ll keep watching out for each other, all of us. WITHOUT … tailing each other." she hurried to add.

There was a quiet chuckle in the line. "I know." he said. "I know, I … I try. I try not to."

"It´s not easy, I know." she assured him. "Almost every time Carlton leaves the station, I see him in that allay again." She closed her eyes for a moment, willing the image away. "But I know he can watch out for himself." she went on. "We can´t protect them 24/7."

"I know."

"Listen. Everything is going to be all right. We beat them. We survived. We need to go on with our lives, otherwise they would have won."

"I know." this time he sounded frustrated.

Juliet sighed. "I need to go back to work." she told him.

"Yeah. Sorry I called."

"No. No, it´s all right." she hurried to assure him. "Just … stick to the usual time again, okay?"

"I will." he promised. "Thank you, Juliet."

"No problem. Oh and one more thing. … Go outside. It´s not good to stay alone inside. Not after what we´ve been through. You can´t tell me that the apartment doesn´t feel like a cell." After a short hesitation, she added: "The dreams will stop eventually."

There was a brief silence in the line. "How´d you know?" he asked, genuinely shocked.

"I have them too." she admitted. "Still. I wake up at night and wonder what day it is and if it really happened … that day when we charged the mansion. Or if I only dreamed it and for real we´re still looking, hoping, knowing that we´ll probably not succeed. Ever." She needed to stop herself to take a shaking breath. "But I know it was just a dream." she finished.

"How do you know?"

"I look at the picture on my nightstand. I took it with my cellphone right after we got out of that mansion and I just know that there is no way this picture would be there, if it hadn´t happened. It is my proof for it being real. I look at it and I know … that both of my partners are alive and well. That helps me find back to sleep."

Juliet sat there and listened to the silence on the other end. He didn´t need to say anything. She knew he was nodding, an expression of thoughtfulness on his face.

"Thanks for listening." he said at last. "Right back."

She heard him smile and smiled as well. It felt totally natural by now, to exchange such nonverbal signals over the phone, even though they couldn´t see each other. They´d given each other this strange sort of therapy for weeks, so it was probably a normal thing to feel that way.

Juliet chuckled and shook her head. Telephone counseling O´Hara. Tell me yours, I tell you mine. But it had done good to talk about it, maybe even more because it had been over the phone and not face to face. It had made it easier. For both of them. And maybe he was right after all. Who else should they talk to about what happened? No psychiatrist would ever understand it. Only they could. Because they´d been there. Together, even if they´d been apart.

The front door was opened and she heard the voice of her partner. When she looked up she saw Carlton walk in, closely followed by Noah Bennet.

"I need to go, Carlton just came in." she spoke into her phone. "We can talk again later."

"All right."

She hung up just when the two men reached her.

"O´Hara." Carlton almost shouted, announcing in his typical get-ready-tone: "We have a case."

Juliet raised a brow, sceptically, eying him and Noah. "_We_ have a case?"

**...**

Gus was sitting in his office, working through a big heap of samples on his desk. The lab had produced at least ten new drugs (most of them only new in package and layout) and now it was his part to deliver them. For today he had twenty-seven doctors to visit and it was nothing he liked to look forward to. Not on a Friday anyway.

His cell phone started to ring and he ignored it, determined not to allow Shawn to distract him from his work. Not right now. Whatever he had to tell him, it could wait until this afternoon. He kept sorting through the pills. The phone kept ringing. Gus ignored it.

Another pill went into his buggy, rightly signed and packed. The phone was still ringing. Gus threw a look at it, still adamant. He would give up. Even Shawn had to get the message. And eventually he did. The ringing stopped and Gus smiled victoriously. That was until his cell phone vibrated to tell him he had a text message.

Not able to suppress his curiosity, Gus made a step to the side and threw a glance at his display. Just a quick look. Reading the message wouldn´t take as long as a talk with Shawn would have taken. So he opened the message and it read:_ „That´s not fair, dude. I know you´re there."_

And in that second, when he´d finished reading, the phone started to ring again. Gus jumped and almost dropped his phone. Angry he hammered his thumb down on the answering button.

"Shawn!"

"Dude, why don´t you answer my call?" Shawn asked, actually sounding kinda sad. Gus was almost sorry now. What if his friend had desperately needed someone to talk to? He would have just let him hang. What kind of a horrible person was he?

"Shawn I …" he started but Shawn was faster.

"We have a case." he immediately blurred out.

Gus was baffled, for a second. Then he was angry. "What case?" he demanded to know.

"Don´t know yet. But Bennet got a call and Lassie is helping him. There is something coming up, dude, I tell you."

"How do you wanna know? And don´t even try to do the psychic on me."

"Okay, then I´ll do the Marty McFly. How´s that for a change?"

"What?"

"Something is going to happen very soon. Something big. And today is the day it starts."

"What? Shawn. If that is about these prank messages, you got a few years ago, you can stop right there. That was nothing but a prank."

"That was no prank, dude. And I can prove it to you."

"Ah, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And how do you wanna do that?"

"Lassie called me a hyperactive idiot." Shawn revealed as if it was one of the biggest mysteries of the universe.

"He calls you an idiot all the time."

"But not a hyperactive idiot."

"It´s the same thing."

"No, it´s not. Gus. Don´t you understand?"

"I don´t have the time for this, Shawn."

"Time is exactly what all this is about."

"How so?"

"I don´t know but the message said it clearly. Without any doubt. It said …"

"I´m hanging up now."

"Wait. Don´t you wanna be there when …?" Gus hung up. He shook his head and put his cell phone on silent alarm. He shouldn´t have answered the phone. He´d lost value minutes. Minutes he could have used to get done with his extra work.

**...**

Juliet waited for her computer to show her the file, she´d opened. It came up a minute later and her mouth dropped open. The photo on that file was unexpectedly familiar.

"This … gotta be a mistake." she mumbled and started reading.

"There a problem?" Noah Bennet asked, behind her. "Good. You´ve got his file." he noticed.

"This is detective Parkman?" Juliet cried, turning around to the company man in disbelieve. "The man we´re looking for?"

"Yes." Noah frowned. "Why?"

"We´ve met this man, as a producer of a TV reality show. He was a suspect of ours. And he called himself Jay …" But in this moment Juliet had found her answer all on her own. "He was undercover?" She shook her head. "But … that doesn´t make sense. His actions concerning the show were the reason for our real culprit to commit murders. If that man is a police detective, why would he do that?"

"I don´t know what you´re talking about." Noah admitted.

"O´Hara!" Lassiter called through the bullpen. "I just got off the phone with Parkman´s partner." he told her, throwing a glaring look at the photo on her screen. "You already know." he found.

"What did he say?" she asked, still lost over that unexpected news.

"He said that Parkman here, was on a very long and well prepared undercover mission to infiltrate a ring of smugglers and extortionists within the L.A. TV-industry. Apparently they sell drugs from the inside, to the stars and their casts. Sometimes heavier stuff. Obviously their plan was to get Parkman into the society by introducing him as a producer of a crappy reality show. When the attacks started to happen on his show, they believed it to be related to their high society case." Lassiter chuckled. "Unbelievable, isn´t it? They didn´t even consider the idea it could be something else."

"Carlton."

"What?"

Noah frowned, deeply and started walking. "So he was after a group of extortionists. Maybe they kidnapped him, when he got too close."

"Don´t think so." Lassiter interrupted. "After we arrested our man at the show, Parkman got taken off the case. Of course. He screwed up."

"Carlton."

"He fought against the decision of course, claiming he would lose the chance to get close to the extortionists. But they took him off the case anyway. Rightfully so, if you ask me. The man´s a cop. He should have seen what was going on. He should have helped us."

"He had a role to play." Juliet defended the man she´d only known as an arrogant, money concerned jerk. "I´m sure he was … just so dedicated to his mission …"

"O´Hara, don´t defend this guy. He screwed up, end of story."

"You came here, asking me to help you guys find him." Juliet recalled, losing her patience.

"And we still need to find him." Noah agreed, glancing sharply at Carlton. "Unfortunately his latest case doesn´t seem to be the clue I was hoping for. The way it looks, Matt didn´t even come close to these people in L.A. to make them some useful suspects for his vanishing. Dammit."

"Except if Parkman would have investigated further on his own call." Juliet mused. "You think that´s possible?"

Lassiter beat Noah with the answer. "His partner said, they were working a new case already. A gang of car thieves. Low stuff, probably meant as punishment." he chuckled again but spared another comment when he met Noah´s gaze.

"Detectives." a new voice chipped into the talk, making them all look up.

"Chief." Carlton cried, swirling around hastily. If that behavior hadn´t betrayed him, Juliet thought, then it was the pathetic try to shield the computer screen with his body. Useless. The chief had already seen it.

"May I ask what case you´re working on?" she asked, her arms crossed over her chest. "Because I can´t remember any of your current cases to be connected to the department in Los Angeles."

"There isn´t … chief." Carlton answered, flicking a brief glance at Juliet. "That´s … a new case … I recently stumbled across."

"Ah." the chief replied with a fake smile. "And how exactly did you stumble across this case, detective?" But before he could answer, she´d raised her hand. "Let me take a guess." She turned to Noah. "Mr. Bennet. Why is it that I always see you around when my detectives are working on cases that potentially involve some strange, unexplainable things? Last time you meddled in our cases, my leading consultant was kidnapped and my head detective was almost killed. Before that my station was shot to the ground and that means … I was shot to the ground."

At this last part her smile faltered a little, obviously overcasted by the memory. But this moment only lasted a second.

"So please don´t take it too personal when I say, I feel very uncomfortable with you being here in this very moment." she told Bennet.

"I assure you, I´m not taking anything personal." Noah replied. "But please believe me, I´m not here to make any trouble. Quiet the contrary, I´m looking for help."

Karen blinked. "In what way?"

"I just reported someone missing."

She frowned. "Who?"

"A police detective, chief." Lassiter answered immediately. "A detective Matt Parkman to be precise. He works for the L.A.P.D. And he´s missing for three days now. Officially."

"And what makes you think you can do something to find him?" she asked, not quiet allowing herself to be drawn in … yet.

"We … have reasons to believe that he might be here in Santa Barbara." Lassiter claimed.

"Really." the chief crossed her arms again. "What makes you think he could be here?"

"Because I told them, chief." another new voice announced behind her. Shawn was standing in the hall, his hand on his temple in his usual psychic vibe way. "I had a vision about this Parkman." he said. "I saw him surrounded by people that were not quiet friendly. And I saw a sign that read Santa Barbara." he threw Lassiter a glance and Juliet saw him nodding at Shawn, gratefully, behind the chief´s back. "I know that is not much to work with." Shawn went on. "But Lassie´s right. I think he´s here."

Vick turned around again to look at her detectives. Her gaze was still wary and Juliet guessed that she knew exactly that Shawn was lying, that he hadn´t told them anything. But in the end she seemed to make a decision.

"All right." she said. "You may proceed. If you find anything that can help the colleagues in Los Angeles to find their missing detective … let me know."

Carlton gave a strong nod at this order, as did almost everyone in the room. Vick gave them one last knowing glance and then simply walked away, back into her office. Juliet exhaled visibly when the door behind her closed and she wasn´t the only one.

"Thank´s Spencer." Lassiter said, honestly grateful. "That was a close call."

"No problem, man." Shawn nodded at him. "I´m always here to help." At this moment he´d spotted the computer screen. "Is that him?" he asked, frowning. "Doesn´t he look kinda … familiar?"

Lassiter only snorted.

Juliet took over the task to tell Shawn the story about the failed mission of the unfortunate detective Parkman all over again, and Shawn´s amazed and excited face was soon replaced by a thoughtful frown.

"Unfortunately we still have nothing we can use, to find out who might have kidnapped him." Juliet finished her summary and Shawn agreed, nodding. "Or Hiro Nakamura for that matter." she added.

Shawn looked up at her, brows raised. "Hiro´s missing, too?" he cried, making Lassiter snort once again.

"Kinda unbelievable, isn´t it?" Bennet mentioned. "We have two people with abilities, one of them with the ability to teleport wherever he wants to go and still they are missing in action."

"Almost as if they don´t want to be found." Shawn said, a little too heavy on the dramatic.

"Did you just say this detective Parkman has an ability too?" Carlton asked, frowning surprised at this new information.

"He´s a mind reader." Bennet affirmed.

Juliet raised her brows, Shawn whistled and even Lassiter made an impressed face, only to return to cynical the next moment.

"Wait." he spoke. "If he can read minds, how is it, that he didn´t know what his camera man was up to all this time?" He thought this over for a second, narrowing his eyes. "Maybe he was in on it after all." He shook his head. "I knew it. He was just a little too obsessed with his money. I bet he did it to get himself some nice private pension to retire in Hawaii or Florida or something like that."

"I don´t think so." Bennet disagreed and the serious tone in his words made Carlton listen for a change. "Matt is one of the most honest men I ever met. He´s a very dedicated police man, who´d never do anything to break his oath." He thought for a moment, before he added: "But he once tried to limit the use of his ability to a minimum." he recalled. "Maybe that´s the reason why he didn´t know the real culprit. Or maybe not, I don´t know. I wasn´t there, I´m not him."

"You can ask him as soon as we found him." Shawn spoke.

"Ah yeah?" Lassiter asked. "Then why don´t you make yourself useful by telling us where he is?"

At this suggestion Shawn inhaled sharply, pretending to think this over. "I´m afraid I´m not getting any locations right now." he said, shaking his head. "Maybe later. I´m sure I´ll get there. In time."

This last bit, he emphasized in a strange way, as if it was supposed to mean something. Lassiter frowned but so did Juliet. Even Bennet seemed to have noticed it. But other than usual Shawn didn´t want to share his special reference. If it had been a reference, Juliet thought. She couldn´t think of anything that would fit though. She sighed.

"I must admit, I´m out of ideas." she spoke up. "We have no suspects, no hints, no leads to where they could be. It is as if they disappeared into thin air."

"Too bad this girl isn´t here to help us." Shawn said and made everybody look at him again. "You know, the one Suresh took with him." he explained. „What was her name? Polly?"

"Molly." Bennet corrected but he sounded as if he´d just gotten the idea of the century.

"That´s it." Shawn snapped his fingers. "Molly. She could have found them. I mean that´s what she could do, wasn´t it? Finding people?"

Juliet watched Bennet staring at Shawn in shock. The man looked officially as if someone had punched him in the face. Shawn frowned irritated and spread his arms.

"What?" he asked. "Did I say anything wrong?"

"Noah?" Carlton asked.

Instead of giving him an answer, Noah reached into his pocket and got his cell phone out.

"Excuse me for a second." he said. "I need to make a phone call."

* * *

**There. It´s done. Once again. I don´t need to tell you how much I rely on refiews so be kind and leave me one.**

**And thanks for reading.**


	2. Coping Process

**Coping Process**

The cell phone started to ring, just as Peter closed his locker, ready to start his shift. Cursing, he opened the locker again. Damn, he hated it to be delayed for work.

"Petrelli." he spoke, impatiently.

"Hello, Peter." an accented voice answered him and Peter closed his eyes.

"Mohinder."

"Listen." the geneticist started, sounding reluctant to even go on. Peter threw a glance at his watch and begged in silence Mohinder would talk faster. "This might sound a little odd." he finally did. "But … Sylar´s regular call hasn´t happen yet and I was wondering if everything was all right."

Peter frowned. That _was _odd. Not totally unexpected but … still odd. How the hell was he supposed to know? Sylar slept on his couch for over a week, but that didn´t mean he knew everything he was doing, at any given minute of the day. And was it a surprise? Ever since the two of them had arrived in New York, Sylar had been strangely quiet. Usually he was a very talkative person, always eager to catch up and share ideas and feelings. But this time … nothing.

It had been Mohinder who´d told them all in detail what had happened, with all of them, and of course Peter understood that this had left a mark. But still. This was Sylar. The guy dealt with things like that in his own way. One of them was this said regular call, everyday at the same time in the morning, to make sure everything was okay over at the Petrelli house with Mohinder and Molly.

Peter had not questioned any of this, he´d just accepted it, knowing that things like that needed time to find their own ways. There would be water under the bridge eventually. But obviously that time wasn´t now. Not when Mohinder kept track on those calls too.

"It´s eleven a.m." Peter pointed out.

"I know." Mohinder replied. "And he usually calls at ten. You know how accurate he is about that."

Peter sighed. That was very true. "You tried to call him?" he asked.

"Of course. He seems to have switched off his cell phone."

Now that really didn´t seem to fit. Or maybe it did? He hurried to think fast about the whole subject.

"All right, listen." he said. "I don´t know it for sure but he went into the church on Battery Park a few times. Maybe he switched the phone off to not to disturb people."

There was a brief stunned silence on the other end. "A church?" Mohinder repeated.

"Yeah."

"What is he doing in a church?"

"A confession? Listen, Mohinder …"

Peter had to make himself look away from the clock. This was not some random time wasting chat. It was about Sylar and when Mohinder was troubled about the former killer´s state of mind, he would have a reason. And thinking of Sylar´s behavior over this last week, Peter thought he might be right.

"Maybe you should talk to him." he suggested therefor. "He seems … I´m not sure. He´s not himself lately. He´s barely talking and practically never left the house. I thought it would settle down after a while but …"

"I see."

"I tried to talk to him but he doesn´t seem to … you know. He doesn´t want to."

"What makes you think he´ll talk to me then?" the scientist asked.

"Because you were there, Mohinder. In that bunker. I wasn´t. I didn´t even know about it before you got here and told me about what happened. … I don´t think he´s completely over it yet."

"None of us is." Mohinder stated, matter of factly. "That´s the point."

"Exactly. So talk to him. Molly is fine for the time being. She had a good start at her new school and she has Mom and Heidi to look after her. You take care of Gabriel."

Again there was that brief hesitation in the line before the geneticist spoke again.

"All right." he said. „I will."

"Good." Peter was barely able to hold himself in this room any longer. He was already two minutes late. "My shift starts." he told Mohinder. "I´ve got to go."

"Okay." the geneticist said and Peter was already in the process of hanging up. But then Mohinder cried out again: "Wait. Did your mother reach you?"

"No." Peter frowned. "What does she want?"

"She wanted to ask you to come over this weekend." Mohinder informed him.

The young paramedic sighed. "I see what I can do." was all he would promise. "Gotta go." And with that he hung up, before he would lose even more time.

**...**

When Mohinder entered the church it was like leaving one universe behind and entering another. The noises and smells that were so strong outside in the streets, were locked out completely, exchanged by that all surrounding quietness of the cathedral. Only a few people were there, sitting quietly along the benches, each of them totally within his or her own prayer. Sylar wasn´t among them though. Had Peter been mistaken, after all?

But then Mohinder spotted him, standing halfway down the side aisle, before an altar. He was lighting a candle, his gaze deep and his brows furrowed, as if he was thinking about something very important. Or someone very important. As far as Mohinder knew, those candles were lit for the dead and he couldn´t help but wonder, who Sylar was lighting them for. But then again, this question offered too many possibilities to even start thinking about it.

He slowly approached the altar, meeting Sylar´s surprised eyes.

"Hello." he greeted and caused an amused smile on the other man´s face.

"Hello." Sylar replied. "How´d you know I was here?"

Mohinder couldn´t suppress the smile that crept over his lips, thinking of all the possible answers he could give now, most of them inspired by a certain fake psychic from Santa Barbara. But of course he wouldn´t do that. That was just ridiculous.

"Peter told me." he said, simple and plain. "He said you came here a few times."

Sylar nodded in silence, this expression of deep contemplation back in his features.

"Is everything all right?" Mohinder asked.

"Sure." Sylar claimed but one look into his face and Mohinder knew it was a lie. A totally obvious one. Sylar knew that too. He shook his head. "I just … needed to get out." he revealed the truth, adding a quiet: "… at last."

"Out?"

"Of the apartment. You know, facing … home."

Now finally Mohinder understood what all this was about. How could he have been so blind, so oblivious? This was New York. The place where it had all begun.

"I know what you mean." he told Sylar. "I came across some familiar places too. It felt odd to see my old apartment building again. Hell, it feels odd to be in the Petrelli house again. In these streets."

"Kirby Plaza." Sylar completed the listing.

Mohinder looked up. Careful now.

"You were there?"

Sylar nodded, his gaze, dark and gloomy, was on the candles in front of him. "I could have sworn, I still saw the blood on the ground." he said, throwing him a brief side glance. "I´m still not sure it wasn´t there."

For a moment Mohinder saw that scene again before his inner eye. Sylar bowed over, paled by Hiro´s sword, blood on his lips, shock on his face, before he broke down, seemingly bleeding to death on the cold ground of Kirby Plaza. The place where it had all ended … seemingly. Only that in their lives nothing ever ended that easily. These past few years were proof of it. The fact that they were standing here together now, was proof of it.

"You shouldn´t do that." he finally spoke again. "Do what?"

Mohinder hesitated. How was he supposed to go on here? His eyes found the candles on the altar again, so many of them and he wondered how many of them had been lit by Sylar. Because now he understood for whom he´d lit them. Dear god.

"Maybe it wasn´t a good idea for you to come along." he said after a while. "To New York, I mean. Maybe it was too early."

"You mean to face what I´ve done?" Sylar asked bitterly. "I already knew that, thanks a lot. Besides." he threw him another glance. "You don´t really think I would let you travel halfway around the world all on your own, do you?"

Mohinder immediately understood the hint, of course. He nodded, returning Sylar´s smile and raised his hand to lightly pad his shoulder, just the way it was supposed to be between them. The way it had always been, disregarding the circumstances.

"I hope you´re baptized, young man." a harsh voice spoke up behind him and made him turn around, surprised.

An old woman stood there, her blue eyes looking very dark in the light of the candles, her skin pale, her features almost furious.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, I hope you´re baptized." she repeated.

A wary frown appeared on Sylar´s face. "Why?" he asked, already guessing the answer.

"This is a Christian church, if you haven´t noticed." she told them.

"And?"

"Pagans and idolaters are not welcome in this church."

Sylar chuckled in utter disbelieve. "Lady, are you kidding?"

"Do I look as if I was kidding?"

"I assure you, I didn´t mean any harm." Mohinder spoke up, trying to ease the tension but Sylar raised a hand, to stop him.

"No, Mohinder, don´t apologize." he said, never leaving the woman´s eyes. "You have the same right to be here like everybody else."

"And God the lord said, you shell not have another God but me." was her fierce response. "Idolaters like you are with Satan." she spat at Mohinder.

"Okay, that´s enough." Sylar stated angrily. She performed an angry cross with her fingers, an expression of determination on her face, when he walked in on her.

Mohinder´s hand shot forward, grabbing Sylar´s arm, to stop him before this would get out of hand.

"Gabriel, don´t." he demanded. He´d been about to suggest that they should rather leave, to ask Sylar to be reasonable, anything to put an end to this. But the other man´s startled eyes just made him realize what name he had used.

For a moment he was just stunned. He surely hadn´t intended to call him by that name. It had just happened.

"Gabriel." the old woman spoke, reminding him of her presence. "It´s blasphemy to carry the name of an archangel, when you seek the company of idolaters. You don´t deserve the name of God´s angel of death."

Ladie you have no idea, Mohinder thought frantically.

"Let´s … just go." he said loud and set a good example by walking away at once, heading for the door with fast strides. It took Sylar only a few seconds to catch up with him.

"You never called me Gabriel before." he mentioned, sharp as he was.

"No." Mohinder affirmed, never slowing down. "Sorry, it slipped out."

"No, it´s all right." Sylar replied. "Really."

Mohinder threw him a glance, meeting expecting eyes. "It´s not the first time I used that name on you." he recalled with a shrug, signaling indifference. "I did it before."

"Yeah, but back then it was just a tool, to make me forget I was a killer." Sylar argued. "This was different."

"Why that?" Mohinder reached for the door to push it open.

"Because this time it was real." Sylar answered and made him halt. What did he mean with real, for god´s sake?

"So what am I supposed to do now?" he asked him. "Call you Gabriel from now on?"

"Maybe." Sylar shrugged. "You can call me whatever you want. It´s just a name, why should I argue about that?"

He was about to follow Mohinder outside, when the geneticist stopped in the door one more time and looked back at him, as if he´d just remembered something.

"Especially since you had so many of them over the years." he mentioned before walking out at last.

For a moment Sylar just stood there, frowning, properly confused, just like Mohinder had intended it.

"Wow." he said at last. "That was a real low blow."

Mohinder only nodded and finally left the church, returning to the outside world. Mission accomplished.

"Thanks a lot, buddy." he heard Sylar call after him and responded with a demonstratively indifferent: "You´re welcome."

Eventually, on the sidewalk, he stopped, meeting Sylar´s gaze again. There was an affectionate glowing in those eyes, one that was only too familiar and too much Sylar. Mohinder seriously doubted that he would ever be able to call him Gabriel.

"Sorry that I wanted to take her head off in there." Sylar said and didn´t realize the poor choice of his words, until he saw Mohinder´s reaction. "Metaphorically." he hurried to add.

Mohinder couldn´t help the chuckle that escaped him. In his pocket his cell phone started to ring and claimed his attention.

"It´s Noah." he found after checking the display and answered the call. "Hello."

"Mohinder." Noah´s voice greeted him. "I´m sorry for calling you so out of the blue. But I need your help."

"Why am I not surprised." Mohinder replied with a smirk. "What can I do for you? Any mutilated body I can identify for you as a Special?"

"I hope not." was the answer and the seriousness in Noah´s voice made the geneticist halt. "Mohinder." the Company man said heavily and increased that bad feeling even more. "It´s Matt. He´s gone."

"Gone?"

Mohinder felt as if someone had knocked him over the head with a hammer.

"Means he´s missing." Noah explained. "So is Hiro Nakamura."

Mohinder felt still dizzy. "Hiro?"

Sylar blinked, looking almost as confused as Mohinder felt himself. The geneticist quickly took the cell phone down and pressed the speaker button, so he wouldn´t listen to these confusing revelations all on his own. He doubted that he would be able to repeat them later.

"The two of them are missing for three days now." Noah explained as if he knew that he now had two listeners. "We don´t know any details yet, we only know that Matt called Hiro for help on something before they both vanished. We tried to find them but … to be honest we are at a dead end with our search. That´s why I call you."

Mohinder understood it right away. His mind was still recovering from the shock he´d gotten from the words "Matt was gone". Dammit, what a poor choice of words. Did this guy never think of what he said and how? And now he wanted Molly to help them find him.

Mohinder met Sylar´s gaze and he´d understood as well.

"I know you´re against the idea of making her use her powers for the Company." Noah spoke now. "But this is not for the Company, Mohinder. It´s for Matt. And Hiro. They could be in danger."

Mohinder was still in the process of computing. Matt was missing and Molly was supposed to find him. He was supposed to tell her that Matt was missing. That he might be in great danger. Right after they´d all managed it to cope with what they´d been through. Right now when Molly was supposed to go back to her normal life.

Mohinder felt a hand on his arm that dragged him out of his frantic musing. When he looked up, he met Sylar´s asking gaze. No, not asking. Assuring. It´s all right, this gaze said. I´m right here. Mohinder blinked, feeling confused and relieved, all at once.

"Mohinder?" Noah Bennet´s voice asked into the silence.

"I´ll talk to her." he answered. "I´ll call you back."

"Thanks Mohinder." Noah said and then the line was disconnected.

Mohinder closed the phone with both hands, keeping it there for the moment, as if he needed the feel of it between his palms to know that this call had not been a bad dream. The hand on his arm squeezed, even shook him, to gain his attention.

"Hey." Sylar said, looking at him as if he was afraid he would faint.

Stupid, Mohinder thought. He was far from that. He was just … confused.

"I haven´t talked to Matt in months." he recalled. "But Hiro. He can teleport. How could someone possibly kidnap him and hold him against his will?"

"We´re going to find that out." Sylar assured him and after another moment he asked: "When´s Molly coming home from school?"

Mohinder threw a look at his wristwatch. "In two hours."

Sylar nodded. When Mohinder still wouldn´t say anything, he shrugged demonstratively. "Maybe there´s a way to ask her for her help, without telling her that Matt´s in danger." he suggested.

"No." Mohinder shook his head. "She would know. No, I … I have to tell her."

Sylar only nodded. "You want me to come with?" he asked.

"I´d appreciate that."

**...**

Juliet didn´t know for sure why she´d left her desk to look for Shawn but when she found him at the front door, he was holding his cell phone to his ear, a frustrated expression on his face. When she reached him, he shook his head and gave it up at last.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, though she could already guess it.

"Trying to lure Gus here." he told her. "But he´s not answering. I let it ring for five minutes now. He put it on silent alarm, I´m sure of it."

Juliet frowned, thinking. "Is it really that necessary that he comes here at once?" she asked.

"Yes." was his frustrated answer.

"Why?"

"Bec …" he stopped himself and sighed, his frustration easing up a little. "I can´t explain that." he said. "You´d only think me crazy."

"I´d never think you crazy." she replied and she meant every word of it. No matter how ridiculous his reason might sound, she would understand it. Because she understood him. She understood how he worked. In this very unique and special way his mind was set. Something she could see so clearly every time he looked at her. Just like she saw it now in his eyes, how he regarded her in that musing way.

"I´ll explain it later." he promised. "If I can. But first I need to get Gus here. Dammit."

"Why don´t you just call at his office line?" she suggested. "He can´t ignore that one."

"No." Shawn denied. "He´ll be on his route by now." At this he suddenly halted, looking ahead with this typical gaze he always had when he´d had one of his ideas. "Wait a second." he mumbled and then a wide smile spread on his face. "Jules, you are a genius."

"I am?"

"Sure. I know his route. Of course. That´s it. Why didn´t I think of that earlier?"

"I don´t know." And that was true. She really didn´t know. Why was she a genius?

He stopped in his celebration and thought this over for a second. "I need a phone book." he said at last.

"I´ve got one in my desk." she said, pointing over her shoulder.

"Sweet." he cheered and was on his way at once. She got the book out of her drawer and gave it to him. He immediately started to flip through it.

"What are you looking for?" she wanted to know.

He kept looking until he´d found it. His finger tipping down on the number that was listed there, he picked up the phone on her desk.

"I need to call a few doctors." he said.

**...**

The pen scribbled over the paper in quick elegant moves, slim beautiful dark fingers holding the pen almost like an artist. When the young receptionist handed Gus the form back, he smiled at her his best and smoothest smile. She smiled back at him, mostly polite, but she smiled.

"Thank you." Gus said, ready to add some more but she´d already turned to the ringing phone to pick it up.

"Dr. Armagosi´s office." she said. "Um … yes, he´s here. What did you say your name was?"

Gus watched her for one more moment, before he reached for his suitcase to keep going with his route. He had four more of these deliveries to make and no matter how pleasant this one had been, he had to finish his schedule. He was about to turn away when the melodic voice of the receptionist called him back once more.

Gus turned back to her, expecting a question like when his shift might be over or something similar. But instead she was holding the phone over to him.

"It´s for you." she said, making him frown.

"What?"

"Burton Guster." she nodded, whipping the receiver a little.

There was a guess lurking in Gus´ mind when he took the receiver and brought it to his ear.

"Hello? Burton Guster speaking."

"Dude, don´t hang up on me." the excited voice of his friend cried into his ear and Gus had to suppress a groan.

"Shawn."

"It´s really important." his friend insisted. "I know what the case is about."

"I don´t have the time now, Shawn." Gus told him and was about to hand the phone back to the receptionist, when he heard Shawn shout on the other end.

"Hiro is missing."

At this Gus´ movement came to a halt and he hesitated, bringing the phone back to his ear.

"Say that again."

"Hiro Nara … pumba is missing."

"You mean Nakamura." Gus corrected with a frown. "Are you kidding? The guy that …" He realized just in time that he wasn´t alone in the room and lowered his voice. "The guy that could teleport?"

"Exactly. And another Special too. A cop. Dude, you won´t believe what he can do."

"What happened?" Gus wanted to know.

"We´re in the process of figuring that out but, dude, therefor I need you here at the station. No one knows more about these things than you do. You´re chatting with these people and I need you here, right now."

Gus hesitated. He hadn´t want this to happen, to let Shawn distract him from his work again, but then again it was about something he would have never expected. When someone like Hiro Nakamura went officially missing, something big must have happened.

"I´ll be there as quickly as I can." he promised at last.

"Yes." Shawn cheered. "That´s my man. See you in ten minutes."

Gus snapped some air, his initial response being shredded with this.

"Half an hour, Shawn." he corrected this unrealistic demand of his friend.

"Also very good." Shawn replied. "See you."

Gus didn´t give another answer but hung up. He needed to hurry now.

**...**

Juliet quirked an eyebrow at Shawn as he put the phone back into the cradle.

"No one knows more about special people than Gus?" she asked teasing and glanced at Bennet. "What about him?"

Shawn threw a look over to Lassiter´s desk and smiled. "Sometimes it´s better to leave some minor details out, when you want to strike Gus´ ego." he said.

Juliet smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. Of course she knew. There was nothing she´d learned to understand better over the years than the way these two guys were working. The only other thing that came close to her understanding was the way her partner´s mind worked.

"Oh crap." she heard the voice of exactly that partner growl now, making her and Shawn exchange a frown.

"What is it?" Bennet wanted to know and leaned over Carlton´s shoulder to have a look at the screen. "Oh, this isn´t good." he commented what he saw there.

That at last made Juliet move, walking over to them, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.

"What is it?" she asked, surprisingly reaching the desk after Shawn.

Carlton only turned the screen around a little, so she could see the newest information they´d found.

"Our case just took a new level." he commented it and Juliet could only agree to what Bennet had said earlier. This surely wasn´t good.


	3. For Our Friends

**For our friends**

The kitchen was empty and quiet and just as pompous as he remembered it. A kitchen that was big enough to be a living room. Only he´d never noticed it before. Before he´d seen it through the eyes of a man that had grown up in this place and never questioned the size of it. Now that he had the right distance to those memories, which had never been his own anyway, he saw it for what it was. The house of rich people, something he´d never been and never would be.

But it was not the size of the kitchen that bothered him right now. It was the face of the man that sat opposite of him. Mohinder had barely touched the tea, Angela´s servant had poured them. His eyes were somewhere else, his mind probably circling round and round over the question how to face Molly as soon as she´d come home. He seemed unable to stop thinking about it, just as Sylar seemed unable to stop watching him do it.

This was highly uncomfortable. He threw a glance at his wristwatch. How long could this woman possibly need to fetch the children from school? It was almost unbearable to stand this silence they were waiting in.

On the other side of the table Mohinder sighed and took a sip of his tea, cold by now. Sylar watched him put the cup down, his eyes, once again, trained on something that wasn´t there. And he, he noticed, was once again staring. Damn, that was just ridiculous.

"You know what I don´t understand?" he spoke up at last, to end this ridiculous situation. "Nathan´s kids. The two boys. Neither of them has an ability." He watched how this thought found its way into the geneticist´s mind and shrugged, demonstratively. "Shouldn´t they have one? I mean … they´re his kids. Shouldn´t he have passed it on to them? He passed it on to Claire. I … I don´t get it. How does that work?"

Mohinder lowered his gaze, thinking. He sighed.

"There are various possibilities that can explain this." he said. "It´s possible that their mother´s gens were dominant against Nathan´s. Combined with the fact that Nathan´s ability was artificially made, it could have resulted in his gens being the resilient ones."

Sylar met his gaze, showing the geneticist his best highly concentrated face. Mohinder shrugged.

"That doesn´t necessarily mean that he hasn´t passed it on." he kept talking. "It might only skip a generation. Depends on the gens of who the boys will chose as a partner, of course." He sighed. "And your try to distract me doesn´t work."

Sylar lowered his gaze, biting his lip. Dammit.

"I appreciate the gesture though." Mohinder added, a little softer. He was still clutching his teacup but at least he was smiling again, gratefully.

"I´m sure Parkman´s okay." Sylar said. "Okay? And if you break it down to Molly that way, it´ll be okay too. Tell her we need to find him because he _might_ be in trouble and he _might_ need help."

Mohinder only nodded. The sound of the front door was audible and then there were voices in the hall. Laughing and chatting. A big happy family. Amazing after all the things that had happened over the years.

The geneticist got up, to meet Molly in the hallway, his posture still too tensed to look casual. Still, when she saw him, Heidi Petrelli and her two sons were forgotten instantly and a happy smile enlightened her face. She started for him, eagerly, until Sylar stepped out of the kitchen. When she saw him, her smile faded at once, the warm light in her eyes immediately replaced by a cold glare. She stopped, warily regarding the killer.

"What is he doing here?" she demanded to know.

"Molly." Heidi Petrelli exclaimed, almost shocked about the girl´s rudeness. She approached the two men, smiling. "Hello. I´m Heidi. I believe we haven´t met so far. You must be Gabriel, Peter´s friend."

Sylar shook her hand, a polite smile on his face and returned the words of politeness. But Heidi seemed to sense the tension, regarding the three of them, estimating.

"Please excuse me, gentlemen, but I have still some work to do." she said smoothly and made her way back to her boys, gently chasing them away to clear the area. As discrete as any politician´s wife could ever be.

"Molly, I need to talk to you." Mohinder spoke, quietly, when they were gone. "Can we sit down?"

The girl nodded, uncertain and made her way into the kitchen. Not before glancing carefully at Sylar though. When he attempted to follow, she swirled around, glaring at him, warningly.

"That´s close enough." she told him and made him stop in his tracks.

Sylar instinctively searched Mohinder´s gaze. But of course there was nothing the geneticist could do to change the way things were. No one could. Not after all the things he´d done, things he knew he could never undo, and could never apologize for. Especially not to her.

Sylar sighed and took a step back, to stay by the door and leave the table to the two of them. He watched. The scientist, a man who´d spoken in front of dozens and dozens of students without problems, sat before this one single girl, facing her asking eyes and all the sudden, he didn´t know the words to start. His mouth was open but no sound was coming out. All he could do was throwing a helpless glance, over to the killer at the door.

"What?" Molly voice was confused. "What is it?"

Mohinder made himself look at her again, collecting his courage. "It´s about Matt." he finally managed to say and mentally kicked himself for letting his voice sound so heavy with worry. The fear was already in her eyes. "He appears to be … on some sort of mission." Mohinder kept talking. "And we can´t reach him."

"What happened?" The girl was on the edge of her seat.

"We´re not sure. He was with Hiro at the time. That was three days ago. Since then no one has heard of them or could reach them on their phones."

"Hiro Nakamura?" Molly repeated the crucial information. "Then they could be anywhere in the world." she cried.

"Right." Mohinder agreed, his relieve so obvious in his voice and face. "Maybe in a place with no reception." he suggested a possibility and Sylar closed his eyes, suppressing a groan. "You see … we´re not sure what happened and … where they might be. But they could need our help so …"

"I´ll find him." Molly agreed before Mohinder could even speak it out, immediately closing her eyes.

Sylar hurried to get his cell phone out and dialed Shawn´s number. He got an answer after only one ring.

"Yep." the fake psychic cried, full of energy.

"Shawn." Sylar answered, knowing that it was unnecessary to identify himself. "Are you still at the station?"

"Sure." was the quick answer. "And, dude. We found something more about our missing detective."

"We´re just in the process of localizing him." Sylar informed him.

This time the fake psychic hesitated. "That´s … good." he declared at last. "Where are they?"

Sylar´s eyes were trained on Molly, waiting for her to reveal what Shawn needed to know so badly. But as he looked, the determination on her face faltered and got replaced by pure confusion. The frown between her brows went deeper, each time her head was twitching. Eventually her eyes went open, almost on their own behalf. The look in them was tired, stunned and scared of what she must have seen.

"Molly?" Mohinder touched her shoulder. "Molly, what is it?"

Her head turned toward him, automatically, like her eyes had opened automatically. She shook her head.

"I … I can´t find him."

Mohinder stared at her in shock.

"He´s not …" And that was as far as her mind would allow her to get, before she had to surrender to the tears that rolled down her cheeks and the sobs that closed her throat.

Mohinder held her, trying to comfort, where his own shock and disbelieve was stunning him beyond any conscious action. His head turned around, towards Sylar, his eyes asking him, the killer, for help. To confirm or better yet, deny, that this was real.

But it was not a bad dream that happened here. It was real. And so was the voice coming from Sylar´s cell phone.

"Dude, are you still there?" Shawn cried.

"Yes. I´m still here, Shawn."

"Did you find them?" Shawn´s voice sounded uncertain now. He´d probably heard the heaviness in Sylar´s voice.

Sylar had to look away from those two grieving people, if he wanted to keep going. "No." he finally answered. "No, we didn´t find him. He´s dead."

"What? How do you know, did you find the body?"

"No." Sylar closed his eyes.

"Then how can you know?"

"We just know."

His tone must have been convincing enough to stop Shawn´s doubts at last.

"Okay." was all he replied and then Sylar could hear him pass the news on to someone else, probably Juliet or Lassiter. Next thing he heard was Bennet´s voice, faint and distant, in the background.

"What about Hiro?" Shawn passed the message on.

Sylar closed his eyes for a moment, knowing that it would devastate the girl if he asked her any more questions right now. But since she hated him anyway …

"Molly?" he addressed her, as gently as possible. "Molly, we need to know if you can find Hiro. Please, if he´s still alive …"

She looked at him with her wet eyes, hateful and hurt all at once, a look that was exclusively for him and no one else, the man who´d killed her parents. But then she closed her eyes and concentrated, one more time. After another moment, she squeezed her eyes shut even more, fresh tears spilling out of the corners. She shook her head.

"He´s not anywhere either." she cried.

Sylar looked at her and felt a strange remorse about those news. The idea of Matt being dead was already strange enough but now she said that Hiro Nakamura was dead too. That little energetic guy with the childlike features and the never ending hope for a happy end like in a fairy tale? He met Mohinder´s gaze again and read similar feelings there. Shock. Disbelieve.

"He´s dead too." he informed Shawn at last. "I´m sorry."

He wasn´t quiet sure who those last words were meant for, but in this situation, it really didn´t matter.

"Wait." Shawn cried on the other end. "Don´t hang up. What about his family?"

"Hiro´s family?" Sylar didn´t understand. The confusion in his voice made Mohinder look around.

"No, not Hiro´s family." Shawn corrected. "Parkman´s."

Sylar frowned. "What about them?"

"They are missing too."

Mohinder must have seen the change in Sylar´s features. He stood up from his seat, looking at the killer, asking. Sylar realized, suddenly, that he was the only one in the room, who could hear what Shawn was saying and hurried to put the cell on speaker phone.

"We just got the word that Janice Parkman hasn´t shown up for work since last week." the voice of the fake psychic echoed through the kitchen. "Her boss assumed she was sick but when they tried to call her, they didn´t reach anyone. When the police checked their home, they were not there. No one raised a pledge or anything, they´re just gone."

"You think someone kidnapped them?"

"That was the idea, but if Parkman himself is dead … why should they keep his wife and kid?"

"They wouldn´t." Lassiter´s voice came grumbling from the background.

"You think they killed them too?" That was Juliet´s passionate voice and Sylar could see her before his inner eye, how she was sitting there, her hand over her mouth, shocked over that idea.

"Whatever these sick bastards wanted, they got it and then they killed them." they heard Lassiter grumble. "Or they didn´t get it and killed them because of that. Anyway, the chances that they´re still alive are close to zero."

"No." Molly shouted all the sudden. "No, they aren´t. They´re alive. I can see them."

"What was that?" Shawn asked startled.

"Matt´s wife and his son." Molly shouted. "I found them, they are … they are in Los Angeles, in a hotel. But not in a room, they are in the cellar. In a … in a cell or something. I´m not sure. But they´re alive. They´re not dead."

Sylar searched Mohinder´s gaze, startled and uncertain, before he raised the phone again.

"Did you get this?"

"We got it." Shawn answered, excited and watched Bennet, who was already on Juliet´s computer.

"I need to know the name of that hotel." he demanded and Shawn passed the request on.

"The Chandler Plaza." he heard the girl answer at once and repeated it for Bennet.

"I´ve got it." the Company man declared after a minute of searching. His eyes were fixed on the computer screen, as if he´d just found something he´b been looking for for years. "It´s in Downtown, Los Angeles." he spoke.

There was a very brief moment of silence, Shawn noticed, before Juliet broke the spell again.

"And?" she asked and Bennet turned around to her.

"I´ll go there." he declared. "Matt Parkman´s family is there. I´ll go and get them out of there."

"We don´t even know if they´re not there on their own free will." Juliet added for consideration, trying to be the voice of reason in this room. "It´s a hotel."

"Molly Walker says they are in a cell." Bennet recalled. "That´s enough for me to know."

"I´m with you." Lassiter immediately declared, making Juliet swirl around.

"What? Carlton."

"What?"

"It´s a hotel." she emphasized once again, hoping someone would catch up with her argument. But no one did. Especially not Lassiter.

"That makes it perfectly easy to set up an observance." was all he would reply. "We check in, take a suite and build up a commando poste there. We´ve done that before, O´Hara."

"But that was here. In Santa Barbara. This is L.A. we´re talking about. That´s outside of our jurisdiction. Way outside of it."

"Not of mine." Bennet remarked, determined and way too calm for anyone to argue with him. "Matt Parkman was a friend of mine." he spoke. "So was Hiro Nakamura. The two of them saved my family more than just once. I owe it to Matt to save his family … and find the people who killed him."

"Gus and I are coming with you too." Shawn blurred out, excitedly.

"What?" Gus cried next to him. "Shawn."

Shawn turned around to his friend, totally serious for a change. "Dude. These people killed Hiro. The guy saved us all when he helped us to stop that black hole to swallow the city. The least we can do is to find his murderer."

The anger in Gus´ eyes, as well as his determination to disagree with everything Shawn might say, vanished behind a glimpse of shame. Shawn didn´t need to see anything else than that. He met Bennet´s gaze again and the Company man nodded, gratefully.

Now the only one who still had to be convinced, was Jules. Lassie turned around to her, throwing her an asking gaze.

"O´Hara?"

She flinched when realization hit her, looking from him to Shawn, over the whole group, as if she was surrounded by accusations. When she faced Lassiter again, her features were hardened. She raised her index finger, defensively, like a teacher in school.

"Oh, no." she said. "This is not fair. You´re presenting me with a fait accompli and now I´m the only one left to make a decision. Means that I will be the bad one if I say anything reasonable now. But not with me. You hear me? I´m not playing this game. Count me in. I´m with you. Let´s get over there and bust this place."

"Yes." Shawn cheered. "Sweet."

Lassiter and Bennet exchanged a tiny smirk.

"Dude, we´re going on a secret mission." Gus sang next to Shawn, finally catching his friend´s excitement.

"I know." Shawn held out his fist.

"Whaaat!"

"I tell the chief that we take some days off." Juliet declared, her voice hard and determined.

"And I make a reservation for that hotel." Lassiter added and the both of them retrieved in two different directions, while Shawn and Gus performed an excitement-dance that startled Bennet beyond every standard that he had ever known.

**...**

In New York, on the other end of the phone that Shawn still held in his hand, Sylar tried to gain the fake psychic´s attention. Unsuccessfully. His younger friend seemed to be too occupied with whatever he was doing, to even hear his cries.

After the fifth useless try, Sylar gave it up. He disconnected the line and dealt again.

"Oh, dude, I totally forgot about you." Shawn cried, when he realized who called him there. "Guess what? We´re going on a secret mission."

"Well, yeah." Sylar growled. "I heard some rumors about that. We´re coming with you."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Great."

Mohinder took Sylar´s arm, making him look around at him. "How are we going to get there?" he demanded to know. "They´re in California."

Sylar only smiled. "Don´t worry. I can bring us there."

"I want to come too." Molly demanded, keeping Mohinder from thinking this through.

"No." he said, firmly. "This is too dangerous."

"Matt would …"

"Matt wouldn´t want you to be in danger." he talked right over her. "You´ll stay here. You told us where we can find them and with that your part is done. Let us take care of the rest."

She threw a doubting glance at Sylar, but Mohinder would not allow her to start again. Not this time.

"We´ll find them." he spoke, firmly. "And we´ll save them."

When she looked at him again, her anger was at last forgotten.

"Promise?" she asked quietly.

"I promise."

And with that it finally was settled. No more questions, no more doubts.

"Shawn." Sylar spoke into the phone again. "Make a reservation for two more."

**...**

Gus stopped the car at the curbside, across the street from Chandler Plaza in Downtown L.A. They´d been driving almost two and a half hours to get here, three of them only within the city of Los Angeles. It was a horrible traffic situation in that town. Gus wondered how people could live in such a mess.

But even with the exhaustion he felt after that trip, he was still unable to block out his excitement over the fact that they were here at last.

"There it is, Gus." Shawn voiced the tension of the sight. "The big bad house where the prisoners are being hold. But we´re going to find them."

"You know that´s right."

"Let´s get to it."

And with that the two of them flipped on their sunglasses and got out of the car. The sidewalk was crowded with people. Lassiter, Juliet and Bennet waited for them at Lassie´s Fusion, regarding them with startled frowns.

"What are you wearing?" Lassiter asked, looking at their identical leather coats.

Shawn cocked his head. "What are _you_ wearing?" he asked in response, regarding Lassiter´s usual suit and tie. "Honestly, Lassie. If we´re supposed to go on this secret mission together, you should start wearing something less suspicious."

"Sure." Lassiter replied, unimpressed. "I´ll keep that in mind for our next secret mission that goes to a meeting of the Men in Black meets Matrix."

Gus gave a demonstrative chuckle at this, making Lassie frown at him.

"That´s the best reference you could come up with?" Shawn asked. "Come on, you can do better than that."

Someone bumped into Juliet, too much in a hurry to watch his steps. He murmured an apology and hurried on his way.

"There´s a lot of traffic going on here, isn´t it?" the detective commented, looking after the man slightly irritated.

"There´s a conference of some sort, I guess." Bennet mentioned.

"You guess." Shawn snorted. "Well, that´s not very accurate. And some sorts doesn´t quiet nail it either."

Bennet threw him a glance. "I didn´t say I knew what kind of conference is being held." he stated.

"But you assumed a conference right away."

"It´s a conference hotel, Shawn." Gus supported the Company man. "It´s logical to assume that these people are gathering together for that."

"It is?" Shawn looked around at the sign that read, Conference Hotel Chandla Plaza. "Oh, yeah." he found. "There it is."

"It´s a political conference." Lassiter stated, matter of factly, wrinkling his nose over the thought to have a bunch of politicians huddled together in one place. "Almost the whole hotel is sold out." he told them. "I was lucky to get a suite at all. The only one that was still free."

"Which one is that?" Juliet wanted to know.

"The honeymoon suite."

"Okay, people." Shawn cried out, demanding attention. "I hope you all realize what that means." He made a dramatic pause, to give his words more meaning. "It means it´ll be me and Jules checking in."

Lassiter only snorted. "Yeah, as if. I made the reservation and I´ll go in there to check in."

"But that´s impossible." Shawn cried.

"Why that?"

"Because no one will believe, that Jules would ever marry you."

"Ah, yeah?" Lassiter replied unimpressed. "And you don´t look like someone who can even afford the honeymoon suite."

Strange enough, his comment caused Shawn and Gus to look down on themselves.

"You know he´s not so wrong with that." Gus admitted quietly.

"Are you kidding?" Shawn cried scandalized. "That´s the best cowhide you can buy on the market."

"Carlton is right, Shawn." Juliet spoke up, trying to reason with him. "It´s just to get into the hotel."

"But … it might be necessary to keep up the act of a real couple later on." Shawn argued. "You know, with some arm in arm action at the cocktail bar and the poker tables."

"There are no poker tables in there, Shawn." Gus mentioned but of course Shawn didn´t believe him.

"How do you wanna know?" he asked.

"Maybe _I_ should check in with detective O´Hara." Bennet cried out, fed up with that discussion.

"Forget it." Shawn replied at once. "You´re way too old to play her husband."

"And Carlton is not?" Juliet asked to defend her partner. It wasn´t before she saw his look, that she realized that this hadn´t come out quiet right. "Sorry." she immediately apologized. "That was not … I didn´t mean to imply …"

"Is there any chance to get into this hotel before new years eve?" Bennet interrupted, his voice raised to a point of shouting.

"Sure there is." Shawn replied. "Jules."

"Spencer."

"Lassie."

"Shawn." Gus snapped. By now he was fed up with that discussion as well. "By the way …" he addressed the whole group. "Is it just me or are we looking a bit suspicious? Five people standing around like that, right in front of that hotel."

Now that he´d pointed it out they all suddenly realized how many of the people who passed them, were throwing wondering gazes at them. And not just them. There were two men at the front door of the hotel across the street, who looked suspiciously like security men at a rock concert. Both of them were frowning suspiciously, watching them.

Shawn and Gus hurried to turn their backs on them, hiding their faces.

"Great start for a secret mission." Shawn grumbled, looking accusingly at Lassiter.

The detective only scowled at him and took Juliet´s elbow, leading her over the street and into the hotel. Shawn stared after them, baffled over that sudden and unannounced retrieve.

"But …." he wanted to object but the two of them had already passed the big glass doors, into the lobby.

"Forget it, Shawn." Gus demanded, making Shawn moan in defeat.

"Man."

Bennet only smirked at them, motioning for the car. "You can help me carry my equipment, boys."


	4. Exploration

**Exploration**

"All right." Lassiter stated as soon as the bags sat on the floor, looking around the suite like a commander that was in the process of situating his base. "We can built up the commando poste in that corner." he decided. "We use the folding screen to cover it from curious hotel staff that comes in uninvited. O´Hara …"

"We can just hang the Do Not Disturb sign out." Juliet mentioned, but only got a snort from Lassiter for that.

"And you think that´s enough?" he asked. "Some Esmeralda always overlooks it on purpose and comes in right when you leave the shower. Never really bought any of these apologies."

"O-kay." Juliet replied, not alone with her confusion about this outpour of her partner. Even Bennet seemed uncertain for a moment.

Shawn threw a look around the place. It was a big suite indeed. The Chandla Plaza´s one and only honeymoon suite. It was impressive and without any doubt a great place to have a party and Shawn still believed it would have been better if he had walked up to the reception with Jules in his arm, playing the happy bride. But now that they were up here, Lassiter and Bennet busily fiddling with the equipment the Company man had brought along, he could think of nothing but to get out of here again. Out to explore the hotel.

"Seems you guys have everything covered in here." he spoke up, already retrieving to the door. "Gus and I will have a look around the hotel, while you build up all this stuff."

"Yeah, you do that." Lassiter agreed, only too glad to get them out of his way for a while. "But remember to keep a low profile, you understand?"

"Lassie." Shawn put on his best insulted face. "Remember who you´re talking to."

"That´s why I said it."

Shawn´s false mask of hurt pride vanished, replaced by a confused frown.

"Just try not to raise any suspicions." Juliet said. "We´ll never be able to get to the hostages when they realize who we are."

"Don´t worry, Jules." Shawn smiled at her reassuringly. "We´ll be as stealth as a … what are these airplanes called, that the military uses? You know the ones that are so stealth-like."

"Stealth fighters?" Gus offered the name.

"Yeah, these. What are they called?"

"They´re called stealth fighters, Shawn."

"Please." Shawn chuckled. "If you don´t know it for sure, then don´t make up names."

Gus rolled his eyes, shaking his head just like Juliet. "Don´t worry, Juliet." he said. "They won´t notice that we´re here. Don´t forget who he´s with on this mission."

"Oh, no." Shawn groaned. "Please, don´t say it."

"The Jackal." Gus spoke it out, sinking down a little in his place, as if the Jackal was a smaller while much more powerful version of him.

He skillfully ignored Shawn´s exasperated groan and moved over to the door on stealthy soles. After he´d checked the perimeter outside, he gave his partner a signal and slipped through the tiny crack, out into the corridor.

Shawn rolled his eyes to meet Juliet´s gaze.

"We´ll be back soon." he told her and opened the door to its full extent, to follow Gus outside.

**...**

"I could still come with you." Molly insisted. "I could …"

"No." Mohinder was firm but strict about his answer. He would not allow her to come anywhere near those people, who had already killed two of the people close to him.

"But what if they move them away?" Molly kept arguing. "And you wouldn´t know it."

"I have your phone number." Mohinder replied. "And you have mine. If that should happen you can tell us. You can do that from here. No need for you to be there. We don´t know what will happen."

Her arguments faltered after this and all she could do was looking at him, trying not to cry again. Dammit she was too old to cry.

"Promise you´ll be careful." she begged.

He promised and gently stroke her back when she fell into his arms.

"You know if you would share what you can do with Sylar, he could see when they´re moved right there and we would save a lot of time." he mentioned.

He had no idea where that thought had come from all the sudden, but the reaction it caused was unmistakable. Molly immediately skipped back from him, almost as if he´d burned her, staring at him in shock.

"How can you even say that?" she cried. "This is Sylar."

"He wouldn´t hurt you." Mohinder stated, startled. "I´ve seen him do that with other people, he doesn´t even …"

"It´s not about that." Molly shouted and when she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper. "He´s a murderer. If he would have my ability he could find everyone he wants to find. Every person with an ability. He would start killing again."

For a moment Mohinder was just taken aback.

"Is this why you won´t let him come near you?" he asked. "I thought it´s just … He´s not … I mean …"

"He killed my parents." she recalled and even though her voice was even, the meaning behind it was impossible to overhear. "You didn´t think I could ever forget that."

Mohinder swallowed. Of course not. Of course he hadn´t expected her to forget that. How could he? He hadn´t forgotten either. How could he ever? But still. His case was different from hers, even though her words sounded so familiar.

"I thought so too." he said, wanting her to see that he _did_ understand her. That he´d always understand her. "But … Sylar´s changed." he emphasized nonetheless. "You see, I never thought I could ever forgive this man for what he´s done but … somehow I could. All right?" He chuckled. "Not even I understand how this happened. And if I´d think about this too much, I´d probably go crazy. I don´t expect you to understand that right away but …"

"It´s not that." Molly said with a shaking sigh, her face looking so much more adult and grown up in this moment, than Mohinder had ever expected to see. "I know he means it." she told him. "I believe he does. But that doesn´t mean that this will last. The Boogeyman doesn´t just stop being the Boogeyman. It´s his nature to kill. And one day he´ll feel that urge again and then nothing will be able to stop him. Not even you. And when that happens, I don´t want him to be able to find his victims just by thinking of them." She looked at him with a grim determination in her eyes, that almost scared Mohinder. "I would never give him my ability." she whispered.

"It´s all right." Mohinder finally managed it to speak again. "You don´t have to."

"Please, promise me to be careful when you´re alone with him." she said, her voice quavering with fear. "I´m not convinced that he won´t try to kill _you_ one day."

"Molly."

"Promise not to trust him." she repeated

Mohinder looked down to her and just didn´t know what to say. His parental instincts wanted him to agree with her, to say everything, promise her everything she wanted, only to make her feel all right again, just the way she was supposed to feel. But making that promise was impossible without betraying something else. So he didn´t say anything.

It was Sylar who saved him from having to say anything.

"Mohinder?" he called from the door. "Are you ready?"

"I´m right there." the geneticist answered, smoothing Molly´s hair one last time to let her know that everything would be all right in the end. It just had to be.

"Everything okay?" Sylar asked him when he joined him in the hallway.

Mohinder´s first answer was a lie and they both knew it.

"No." he corrected himself, dropping the false facade. "I don´t see how it could be okay."

"I know." Sylar lay a hand on his shoulder. "Don´t worry. We´ll find out what happened. And we´ll find the people who did it."

A silent agreement was all Mohinder could muster, right now. That and the question:

"You know where to go?"

"I looked it up at google earth." Sylar nodded. "As long as there´s a dark corner, we can get there."

**...**

Shawn watched how Gus snuck along the wall, feeling a nagging repulse in his guts. Not because of Gus and his Jackal performance but because of the elevator he headed for. The thought to get into it again, made his stomach tighten. Earlier when they´d been all together, the bags punching against their knees and legs, it had been one thing. But now …

"You know, maybe we should take the stairs." he suggested when Gus pushed the button to call the car. His friend, finally forgetting to move sneaky, frowned at him.

"Why that?"

"You know … just …" Shawn shrugged. "To see if we can see something."

"In the staircase?"

"Sure. You think we´ll see any more in there?" he pointed at the steel doors of the elevator and as if it was a mouth that tried to seduce him into jumping in, the doors went open. Shawn had to collect all his willpower to not to jump backwards at the sight and to reduce it to a reluctant half step. "See?" he pointed inside. "That´s just a … small … cabin. Four walls and a ceiling. Nothing interesting we could find in there."

"Shawn."

"It´s not really anything …"

"Shawn. What is all this about? You´ve been uncomfortable in there all along. So far I ignored it but this … What´s the matter? Is anything wrong with you?"

"No." Shawn claimed. "It´s just … that stupid music they´re playing in there. It hurts my taste for good rhythm. I mean honestly."

Gus arched an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

"Would _you_ call that music?" Shawn insisted, totally convincing. "I mean for real? It´s just an insult for good taste."

"You´re acting ridiculous." Gus entered the elevator, giving Shawn a demanding gaze. "I am not walking down 18 stories just because you don´t like the music." he told him. "Get the hell in here."

Shawn wavered but there was just nothing else he could say, so he obeyed and stepped in. Gus pushed the button for the lobby and the doors closed. In an instant Shawn felt the walls around him even more than before and he had to make himself stand still, so he wouldn´t crouch down like a stupid kid.

Next to him Gus was shaking his head but only until he noticed the sweat on Shawn´s temple. Shawn wanted to smile, to make a ridiculous comment about the music again, anything to distract his friend from what was really on his mind. But all he could hear was that rushing and somehow gurgling sound the elevator made while driving down this tiny and incredibly long shaft. It seemed to increase, to come closer and this time his efforts not to crouch failed.

Gus frowned, said his name but Shawn barely heard him. All he heard was that rushing sound that came closer and closer, until he could hear it washing through his mind.

His hand snapped forward and started to push buttons totally randomly, making them all glow one after the other. Finally – finally the car stopped and the doors opened, giving him free at last. Shawn didn´t wait for Gus to wonder what was going on, he needed to get out. Out of this tightness in there, away from that sound of running water, that was no water at all. But knowing that didn´t help. Not a bit. He supported himself against the wall and tried to steady his breathing.

"Okay, Shawn." Gus appeared beside him. "This is not about the music. What is it?"

His gaze was so demanding and yet so sympathizing, that Shawn had no chance to think of anything else to tell him but the truth.

"Dr. Terrance would call it a … what? Post traumatic reaction?" he wasn´t sure if the term was correct but Gus seemed to understand him anyway. "Has something to do with a small room down in that bunker." Shawn told him vaguely. "A room with very little space … and a whole lot of water."

"Does your psychiatrist know about this?" Gus wanted to know.

"She´s not my psychiatrist, Gus. She´s a therapist, the Company assigned for me, Lassie and Bennet. I only go there to not to be rude."

"So you didn´t tell her?"

"Why should I do that? She can´t change a thing about what happened."

"But she could help you cope with it."

"I doubt that."

"Shawn."

"Don´t worry. I´m fine. I just … really would prefer the stairs. At least for now."

Gus took a deep breath, unable to control his own shaking.

"Okay." he said, giving in at last.

So they took the stairs and even though they didn´t see any more on that way than they would have if they´d ridden the elevator, Shawn felt a whole lot better when they at last reached the ground floor.

Gus peeked out through the door, into the hallway, again halfway back to his Jackal, the infinite secret spy. This time Shawn didn´t roll his eyes. He was grateful for it. At least it would keep Gus from asking about his condition again. If he was lucky, he would never have to talk about it, ever again.

"Coast´s clear." Gus whispered but Shawn´s attention was already drawn to something else. Another door. One that lay totally unobtrusively in the dark of the staircase. But this unobtrusiveness only made it more interesting in Shawn´s mind. He tried the handle but found it locked.

"Isn´t that strange that they keep a door locked in here?"

"Not if they don´t want any lost guest to go through it." Gus replied, absolutely reasonable.

"And why wouldn´t they want this to happen?" Shawn asked. "What do they have to hide?" He looked around again, and then he just knew the answer. "There are no stairs leading down to the cellar. And in the elevators there was no button for a cellar either. But we know that the hostages _are_ in the cellar."

"You mean this door could lead down there?" Gus understood. "You have any idea what the odds are for that door being the one we´re looking for?"

"Just one way to find out." Shawn threw him a poking gaze and his friend understood.

"Watch the door." he demanded and Shawn was only too happy to comply.

He watched Gus reaching into his pocket and getting out a small tool that looked suspiciously like a lock pick. Within seconds it was in the lock, searching its way through the mechanics that held the door close.

"Dude, you can´t tell me you didn´t expect anything like that to happen." Shawn whispered.

"Always be prepared, Shawn." was all Gus would reply. Barely a minute later there was a snapping sound coming from the door. Gus pushed the handle down and it swung open as if it had never been locked.

"Dude, this is great." Shawn exclaimed, holding out his fist.

"I know." Gus replied, bumping it.

"Let´s get down there."

"Wait, shouldn´t we call Lassie and Jules?"

"Just a quick look, Gus." Shawn insisted and went through the door.

The small hallway behind it gave way to a corner, after only a few steps. Behind it there was nothing but another wall, with two steel doors.

"An elevator." Gus spoke in surprise.

"That´s … weird." Shawn agreed and tried to call the car. The button he pushed glowed red but the doors didn´t open.

"Access denied." Gus read off it and when Shawn bowed down to have a better look, he could make out the words as well.

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?" he wondered.

Next to him Gus snapped his fingers. "I know what this is." he cried excited. "It´s a thumb print scanner."

"Seriously? Like in these high security government buildings?"

"Exactly." Gus looked at the button with a serious glare. "One thing´s for sure. They don´t want anyone in that elevator, that´s not supposed to be in there."

Shawn was about to comment on this dramatic speech, but a third voice interrupted him.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" the security man asked, making them both flinch and swirl around.

"Erm … yeah." Shawn managed to answer. "Actually you could. We´re looking for the snack bar but we seemed to have kinda lost the way. Is this the vending machine?" he pointed at the elevator.

The security man didn´t answer his question.

Barely a minute later the two of them found themselves in the lobby, facing a grim looking man, in suit and tie. He didn´t wear a name tag like most of the other hotel staff members, so Shawn assumed that they were facing the big boss himself.

"I found these two in the staircase, Mr. Emmerson." the guard reported. "In the back."

Emmerson regarded them with mild but unmistakable interest. "How did they get through the door?" he demanded to know.

Shawn pointed behind himself. "Oh, that door back there? That was wide open. We were wondering about that ourselves. If that was not supposed to be like that, you should improve your security staff."

"The security staff you see here, was trained by the FBI, CIA and ATF." the hotel manager told them.

Shawn skipped back a little, intimidated. "I see."

"Right now we´re hosting over three dozen senators, secretaries and governors from all over the country." Emmerson went on. "You may believe me when I tell you, the security is a top priority at the moment. And this is also the reason why I can´t allow people who are not guests of this hotel, to walk around here as long as they don´t have a good reason to be here."

"How do you want to know we´re not guests?" Shawn dared the manager but failed to fool him.

"I´ve been monitoring all new arrivals these last three days myself." Emmerson told him. "You were not among them."

"We came here last week." Shawn tried it again but Emmerson only smiled.

"No, you didn´t." "How do you wanna know?"

The only answer they got was a meaningful derogative look.

"Wha …" Shawn closed his mouth. "Okay, this … is insulting." he stated. "This is the best cowhide you can buy on the market these days."

"Shawn." Gus spoke up quietly but Shawn would not let this pass.

"It´s from the belly." he insisted.

"I would appreciate it when you would leave quietly." Emmerson said. "Please, don´t make me escort you out."

"It´s all right." Gus said. "We understood. We didn´t mean to make any trouble." He took Shawn´s arm and urged him forward. The eyes of the manager remained on them until they were outside, on the street.

"That was great." Gus cursed as soon as they were out of his sight, walking down the street. "And now?"

Shawn tapped him on the shoulder, making him stop at a small allay that led around the hotel.

"Come on." he said. „We sneak back in through the garage. It´s on the other side, come on."

Gus didn´t say a word, just sighed and followed.

**...**

In a dark corner, created by a container with a heap of old fruit boxes on top of it, something started to move in the shadow, only a minute after Shawn and Gus had passed it. The subtle movement, first nothing more than a shifting of absent light and darkness, became stronger, somehow more organic and in the end it started to collect the darkness, around the one point in that corner, that had been the darkest of it all from the beginning. It moved, gathered the shadow closer around that spot, forming it, widening its space until it was big enough – and even more important, dark enough – for two people to step out of it.

Sylar let go of Mohinder´s hand and looked around. Not the best place to land but one had to be modest. He only wished it could have been a place less … well, dirty.

"And now?" Mohinder asked. "Where to?"

Instead of giving an answer he didn´t have, Sylar took his cell phone out and dialed Shawn´s number.

**...**

Shawn didn´t flinch when his cell phone started to ring but Gus did. He frantically looked around, probably afraid that the security guards of the hotel would spot them while they tried to sneak back in. Shawn took his cell out and checked the caller ID.

"It´s Sylar." he found and was in the process of answering when Gus´ hand snapped forward.

"It´s who?" he hissed.

"Sylar."

"You have Sylar in your memory?" Gus looked at the display in disbelieve and there it was. Sylar. "Oh my god." he cried. "Are you insane?"

The phone kept ringing. "Well, he calls occasionally." Shawn hissed impatiently. "What am I supposed to do? Wonder who calls me, every time it rings?"

"That´s not what I meant." Gus argued. "He´s a murderer, Shawn."

"Not anymore."

Shawn tried to answer but Gus forced his arm down, once again.

"How do you want to know?" he whispered. "He might have killed someone ten minutes ago. How would you possibly know?"

"Well, if he had killed someone ten minutes ago, he would not call me right now, would he?"

"Shawn."

**...**

Sylar shook his head and took the cell phone down, disconnecting the line.

"He doesn´t answer."

Next to him Mohinder frowned.

"Do you hear that?" he whispered, listening to some distant sounds, somewhere at the end of the allay. Voices, Sylar realized. Two of them. Someone was arguing right around the corner. Was it possible …?

Of course it was.

**...**

"Great." Shawn looked down on his now silent cell phone. "Now I need to call him back to know what he wanted."

"No, you won´t." Gus demanded but this time Shawn avoided to be grabbed again.

"Of course, I will." he stated. "He´ll probably want to know where we are, to meet up with us."

"What?"

"Didn´t I mention this? He and Suresh are joining us on this mission."

"They what?" Gus was almost shrieking now. "Shawn."

Shawn pushed a button on his phone and held it to his ear, listening.

"You even have him in speed dial?" Gus cried in shock.

Shawn had the first tone in his ear that told him it was ringing on the other end … and froze when the sound of a clear and very close cell phone came from right behind them. He glanced over to his friend and Gus was frozen solid, barely daring to move his head in order to look at him, not to mention from turning around.

The ringing echoed one more time in that dark allay, that seemed so creepily silent all the sudden, and then it stopped. Just like this. Shawn looked at his display and saw that the line had been disconnected.

There were footsteps behind them. Shawn glanced at a sweating and shivering Gus beside him and slowly the two of them turned around, meeting Sylar´s dark eyes, hovering over them. Not even Shawn could stop his natural reaction to this sight. When Gus jumped, he jumped and when Gus started to scream, he joined him.

Next to Sylar, Mohinder flinched at the sudden noise, cursing under his breath.

"My god, calm down, you two." he hissed at them.

"I slap you, Shawn." Gus cried, his heart still thudding like a forge hammer.

"What? What did I do? I didn´t tell him to sneak up on us."

"But you told him where to find us."

"Technically it was the GPS-girl who told them." Shawn argued. "They already knew where we would go."

"You could have told me that they would come." Gus managed it to get himself under control again, smiling a polite smile at the man that was not a killer out of the two of them. "I´m sorry." he apologized to Mohinder. "But I don´t appreciate it when people sneak up on me. Especially people who are known to kill other people." with that he glanced at Sylar.

"Dude."

"It´s a fact, Shawn."

Sylar was still smiling, chuckling quietly. "I´m sorry, Gus." he spoke at last. "You´re right. I´ll try not to do it again."

The words, even though meant to sooth, had the exact opposite effect on Gus, making him freeze face to face with this killer. The fact that Sylar didn´t even blink or seemed to intent to break that spell, didn´t help either.

Shawn frowned, looking back and forth between them, not quiet sure which one of them irritated him more. And then Suresh bumped his elbow into Sylar´s arm and everything just stopped.

"Stop this already." he demanded and Sylar lowered his gaze, still smiling widely.

Gus started to breath again.


	5. Shots in the Dark

**Shots in the Dark**

When Noah opened the door after that strangely complicated knocking, he´d expected almost anything but not that. Shawn Spencer was standing in the door, shoulders hunched, his head bowed down sunglasses shielding his eyes and the collar of his leather jacket flipped up to his ears. He had a newspaper under his arm, for what reason remained a mystery to Noah altogether.

The fake psychic moved his head just enough to indicate that he had something to say. And then he spoke. In a hoarse and colluding whisper tone.

"The birds … are heading south … before the first snow." he told Noah, who had absolutely no idea what to do with that.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked the man in the doorframe and finally Shawn´s ridiculous charade cracked and he stared at him, totally baffled.

"That … That´s a code." he informed him, for some reason emphasizing the newspaper under his arm.

"It doesn´t make any sense." Noah replied.

Shawn´s face became dead serious again. "It´s not supposed to." he told him.

Noah shook his head – sometimes this man was highly irritating – and opened the door for him at last.

"Just get in here."

But in this moment someone else appeared behind Shawn. Noah froze in his steps, staring blankly into those cold glowing eyes of the killer.

"You."

Sylar smiled.

Shawn flinched, not so much because of a killer standing behind him, but because of Noah´s reaction. His immediate approach to ease down the situation was to hold out his hands at both of them, and even though he didn´t find the time to say anything, his facial expression said loud and clear: Easy, guys. We all wanna survive this.

Noah barely noticed the gestures though. All he saw was the smiling face of the killer.

"Hello, Noah." Sylar greeted him.

Before Noah had a chance to react to this mocking tone, the killer was joined by the geneticist, the first normal face Noah saw since he´d opened the door. He relaxed a little, just enough to speak evenly.

"Mohinder." he nodded. "Can we come in?" the scientist asked.

Instead of an answer, Noah glared at Sylar. But once again Shawn Spencer was acting faster than he´d expected and shoved himself inside, past Noah.

"Of course you can." he said with a dismissing snort. "Just because he didn´t get my reference, doesn´t mean you have to stand outside forever."

The two uninvited guests entered the suite right after the fake psychic, closely watched by Noah, who wouldn´t let Sylar out of his sight for only one second. He was in the process of closing the door, when a third person walked in. One he hadn´t even thought of anymore. Noah flinched when he stood in the door so unexpectedly and held it open once again, to let Gus step in.

For a moment the priggish gaze of the man drew all his attention off the other people in the room, irritating him almost as much as Shawn´s ridiculous code had done it before. And then Gus was inside and Noah let the door fall into the lock, almost disguising the other clicking sound that echoed through the room. Almost.

"What is this scumbag doing here?" Lassiter demanded to know, his gun aiming at Sylar.

The killer turned to face the angry detective, but it was not him who gave an answer to his question.

"The same as you, detective." Mohinder declared. "Saving an innocent woman and her child from getting killed."

The statement earned him a positively surprised glance from Sylar and a silent approving gesture from Shawn. None of it seemed to be noticed by either the scientist or the detective, who were still busy staring each other down.

"Put that gun away." Mohinder demanded. "We´re on the same side."

"Prove that to me." Lassiter growled but put the gun down nonetheless, readjusting the safety.

"How did you get here so fast?" Noah wanted to know. "I thought you were in New York."

"We were." Mohinder affirmed, his gaze still on Lassiter, still angry.

"Then how …?"

"It doesn´t matter." Mohinder talked right over him. "What matters is that we act fast now, before Matt´s wife and son are paying the prize for our slowness."

"Actually it could matter, Mohinder." Sylar spoke up, for the first time since he´d entered the room. He must have gotten a pretty funny idea because he chuckled, shaking his head. "I don´t understand why I didn´t think of that earlier." he said. "But … Think about it, I could use that power to get them out."

Noah watched Mohinder´s reaction and as it seemed, the geneticist actually understood what the killer was talking about.

"What power?" the Company man demanded to know.

"Uh, I know it." Shawn cried out excitedly. "I know what power you mean. That … That shadow thingy, that got you out of that smoking room, right?"

"What?" Lassiter´s expression of total confusion reassured Noah´s believe in his own ability to follow a reasonable conversation. He once again had no idea what the fake psychic was talking about.

"Dude, that´s awesome." Shawn exclaimed, staring at Sylar with glowing eyes. "That´s almost as good as teleportation."

"You really think you could do this?" Mohinder asked the killer, way more cautious than Shawn. "I thought you need to know your destination."

"I do." Sylar affirmed. "But I _know_ the target. Kinda. It´s the cellar of this building, right? That´s more than I need to find them."

Slowly Noah began to understand the course of that talk, the meaning of it all making its way into his consciousness.

"So you´re talking about walking through a shadow to get to Janice Parkman and her son, is that right?" he asked for confirmation.

"If you can really do that, then you should try it right now." detective O´Hara blurred out, before Noah even had a chance to question if it was a good idea, to let this killer get near the hostages.

Sylar of course was only too eager to agree with her. "I need a dark corner." he said.

"How about the bathroom?" Shawn suggested, even faster than O´Hara had been.

"Just a second." Lassiter cried out, effectively blocking their way to said bathroom. "Are we really talking about letting the killer do the work _we_ came for?" he spoke out what Noah had been thinking. "Saving the hostages? Him?"

"I´m not a killer anymore." Sylar stated but Lassiter only glared at him.

"I´ll never believe that."

There was a brief tensed moment, in which the two of them only stared at each other, neither of them saying anything else to clear that subject, probably knowing very well that they wouldn´t convince each other anyway. At last it was again the scientist who broke the silence.

"We should try it." he said, declaring that the decision had been made and that no further discussion would be allowed. He demonstratively walked past Lassiter and over to the bathroom door, closely followed by Sylar, then Shawn, then Gus, then Juliet.

Noah met Carlton´s gaze briefly before they both joined the gathering, which was already in the process to examine the small bathroom for its suitability.

It was dark enough in there with the door open, so it was easy to assume, that it would provide a deep enough shadow for their purpose, as soon as they closed the door. As a matter of fact it would be totally dark in there as soon as the door was closed. A room with no windows would have that effect.

"Should I come with you?" Mohinder asked the killer, uncertain, but Sylar shook his head.

"No. I need to look out for them first. If I even find them, I need my full concentration for this."

The geneticist only nodded and let the murderer enter the bathroom all on his own. Noah watched him closely as he closed the door behind Sylar, practically allowing him to go anywhere he pleased and do anything he want, knowing that they wouldn´t be able to stop him.

"I hope you know what you´re doing." he spoke, not able to keep this to himself.

"What are you talking about?" Mohinder snapped.

"Trusting him with these peoples lives." Noah replied, calmly. "The lives of your friend´s family."

"He has no reason to harm them in any way. And I would appreciate it if we wouldn´t waste value time by discussing Sylar´s motives, while Matt´s wife and son´s lives are at stake."

"Their lives are the reason why I question Sylar´s motives." Noah clarified.

Their discussion was interrupted by Carlton demanding quiet. He had his ear at the door, listening carefully. When he couldn´t hear anything from the other side, he eventually opened the door. The room was empty. Lassiter switched on the light to make absolutely sure. But there was nothing. No corners to hide, no hatches, windows or other doors that led out of there, except for the one he´d just opened.

"Son of a bitch." the detective grumbled.

"Switch out the light again." Mohinder demanded quietly after a moment. "He needs to find the way back."

Lassiter hesitated, a smirk on his lips. "What would happen to him if I would leave this on?" he asked.

He got no answer. The doctor only reached for the lightswitch himself and killed the lights, before closing the door, wordless.

Noah had rarely seen the geneticist so impatient and this behavior didn´t make much sense to him. On one side he was so worried about Matt Parkman´s family that he wouldn´t waste only one second of unnecessary discussions, on the other hand he trusted their lives to a cold blooded killer. A knock on the front door made them all swirl around.

"Room service." a male voice cried from outside and then there was already the sound of the lock beeping.

"Dammit." Lassiter cursed and ripped the bathroom door open again, shoving them all inside. "Quick. Hide." he ordered. "O´Hara."

Juliet immediately started to move and was at the front door to buy them some time, her hand slipping away just before Shawn could grab it to drag her behind. He cursed almost desperately and then he was inside the bathroom, Bennet´s arm in his face and Gus´ elbow in his side. He pushed and Gus pushed back, shoving him against the sink in his try to reach over to the light switch. Shawn could barely see anything but he could hear Gus´ annoyed huff when his hand didn´t make contact with the switch but with Suresh´s back, who stood right in front of it, not moving aside and sure as hell not switching on the light.

Shawn´s hand clung to the sink in order to steady himself in that darkness. In that tightness of this small room. A room full of faucets. And water. Damn, was it just him or was it really getting hotter and hotter in here?

**...**

"Carlton." Juliet hissed at her partner, when he pulled his gun at the door. He flinched, noticing his action just then and put it away.

"Sorry. Old habit."

By now the uninvited visitor had managed it to open the door and smiled at them, despite Lassiter´s efficient method of keeping him outside the suite.

"Room service, sir." he announced again, holding up a big bottle with a golden neck.

"We didn´t order anything." Lassiter stated.

"It´s … complimentary champagne." the young man informed him, his smile a little uncertain by now. "For the newly weds. Something to celebrate."

Lassiter regarded the bottle and the man who held it, with wary eyes.

„Turn it around." he demanded.

The poor guy frowned, throwing a helpless glance at Juliet.

"The bottle." Lassiter repeated. "Turn it around. Let me see it."

After a moment of pure irritation, the boy did as Lassiter had asked, allowing the detective to check out every inch of the bottle. When Lassiter was sure that there were no hidden devises or other unexpected surprises attached to this … present, he took it out of the startled boy´s hands.

"Thanks." he said briefly, handing the bottle to O´Hara.

"Is everything all right?" the boy asked. "Or do you need anyth...?"

"We´re good." Lassiter informed him and closed the door into his face.

**...**

In the bathroom, Shawn was still trying to control his breathing, sweating bullets in the process, but not because of the poor air conditioning. His hand was still clinging to the sink and if he´d been able to see it, he would have seen his knuckles standing out white with the tension. Dammit, how long could it need to get rid of a room service?

"Hey." he heard Bennet´s voice, so quiet that he barely understood the words. "Is everything all right with you?"

"Sure." he pressed out. "Sure, I´m fine."

He couldn´t see the face of the older man but he was sure he didn´t sound too convincing. Next to him Gus huffed.

"This bathroom is far too small for a honeymoon suite." he hissed and in this moment Shawn just couldn´t stand it any longer.

"I need to get out of here." he breathed, trying to push his way past Bennet and Suresh.

"As soon as Carlton gives the all clear." Bennet told him, not moving aside.

It needed all of Shawn´s willpower not to squeal in frustration and to keep himself from breaking through this wall of bodies before him. He still couldn´t see their faces – hell he couldn´t see anything – but he was sure they were regarding him with irritation and worry.

He closed his eyes, willing the images away that tried to get into his mind, by concentrating on his direct surroundings. The things that he sensed that were around him, things he could touch to steady himself, like the sink under his hand. Gus´ elbow in his side, the tiled floor under his feet. His own breathing was the loudest thing in his head, in this room. He had to steady it. To lower it down.

Wasn´t there something else, a sound that hadn´t been there before? Yeah there was. He could hear it. Something was there with him, behind him. And it was moving, moving in the dark. A hand touched his shoulder – not Gus´ – and finally Shawn panicked.

**...**

When the screaming arose in the bathroom, the two detectives swirled around, rushing over there in an instant. This time Juliet pulled her gun too but when they reached the door, it was busted open from the inside and a screaming Shawn was followed by a screaming Gus, both of them stumbling over each other, out of the bathroom, both of them in panic.

Inside of the bathroom a shot rang out and Juliet managed it to turn away from that sight on the ground. A groan from the bathroom got drowned out by her partner´s voice, yelling: "Freeze!" and then there was the sound of something smashing against the wall.

Juliet could see Bennet, pressed against the tiles by a very angry looking Dr. Suresh. The gun he was holding got ripped out of his fingers and deformed, before it flew to the ground, useless and beyond repair.

"That was the last time you pulled your gun on any of us." he hissed at the Company man. "You hear me? I´m fed up."

Juliet could not believe what she saw. She moved to the right, to see what had happened inside that bathroom. She saw Sylar, sitting on the ground, holding his shoulder, his shirt soaked with blood from a wound that was already in the process of healing.

Again there was a knock on the door.

"Is everything all right in there?" the voice of the boy called from outside. "I heard a noise."

"Crap." Lassiter grumbled and stepped over Shawn and Gus, to get back to the door. "We uncorked the bottle, okay?" he shouted. "Give us a break."

**...**

Sylar regarded his image in the big mirror of the bedroom. The blood on his shoulder, from the wound that had already healed ten minutes ago, leaving no mark behind. Sylar sighed.

Blood was persistent. It´s not easy to just wash it away, to erase it that easily. You could change the shirt, ripped by the bullet and colored by the red, but the tracks would still remain. The memories.

Outside her could hear their voices, faint, arguing.

"It was you who busted the door, Shawn." Gus recalled, fiercely.

"Yeah, because I wanted out of the line of fire."

"The shooting hadn´t even started then. You panicked."

"As far as I remember, you where the one who started screaming."

"You screamed too, Shawn."

"And I stopped screaming, circa ten minutes before you."

"That´s not even halfway accurate on the time, Shawn."

"You two just stop it." Lassiter´s voice cut off the argument.

For ten seconds it was quiet outside, then Shawn and Gus picked up their banter, whispering this time.

Sylar barely heard it. He was still too much focused on the trail of blood on his own skin. His own blood but still … Forcing himself to stop this kind of thinking, he used the wrecked shirt to rub the blood off himself, with quick angry swipes. What was he doing here anyway? It wasn´t the first time that he got shot by Bennet and it would certainly not be the last time.

He threw the useless shirt to the ground and put on the one Lassiter had given him. Good thing they had the same size. He was just done buttoning it, when he heard a shuffle at the door.

He closed his eyes with a sigh, knowing that it was Mohinder standing in the door. It had been bad enough when he´d had to tell him that his trip through the shadow had brought nothing. It would be even worse now to explain why. Not that it had been his fault that there had been no shadows deep or big enough for him to get out on the other side, that there were too many lights on in that cellar where Parkman´s wife and kid were held captive. But he´d promised him to get them out and he´d failed.

He opened his eyes again, preparing himself and turned around.

"I know what you wanna say." he started and got cut off when he didn´t face Mohinder but Juliet.

She raised her brows. "Really?"

This sudden change in the situation threw him off course for a moment. So did her asking gaze.

"Is Shawn all right?" he managed it to ask, knowing that the question was ridiculous.

"He´s fine." Juliet answered it anyway. "Again."

Sylar nodded, actually meaning it when he told her: "I didn´t mean to scare him like that."

"I know." she said. "He knows. You didn´t … really scare him. It´s just the memories, you know."

"I know."

"What they did to him down there …" she shook her head. "It´s a miracle that he didn´t lose his mind."

"He has you. That surely helps him."

For a moment Juliet didn´t know what to say, just stared at him, before nodding in hesitant agreement. She chuckled briefly.

"I have the feeling I became the unofficial counselor for almost everybody who was involved in this." she summarized and Sylar knew exactly what she wanted to say.

"That´s because you´re such a good listener." he told her, making her smile, gratefully. "Did anyone ever counsel you?" he asked her. "You went through so much as well. Maybe even worse than Shawn. The uncertainty, the fear … not knowing if there was still hope …"

"I got counseled." she interrupted him gently. "From both, Shawn and you. Talking is a two way street, you know."

And of course he knew. How couldn´t he? And when he smiled at her, she smiled back, knowing what he knew, that they understood each other.

"How are you?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle.

"Good." he answered. "I was killed before."

But she shook her head. "I wasn´t talking about the bullet."

"I know." He threw a glance past her, outside to where the others were gathered around Bennet´s equipment. "I´m good." he assured her and when she turned around, he was sure she knew who he´d primarily looked at, among the others.

"O´Hara." Lassiter shouted, turning around to them. He waved his hand impatiently for her to come and join them.

The two of them exchanged a last silent glance, before leaving the bedroom, to join the briefing.

"All right, everybody." Bennet spoke when they were all complete, pointing at a spot on the plan of the building. "This is it. The one door that is between us and Janice Parkman."

"Where do you have these plans from?" Gus wanted to know and only got a confident smile from the other man.

"Connections." was all Bennet would answer him. "This elevator leads down to the cellar." he picked up where he´d been interrupted. "And we have no way to open it."

"I can open it." Mohinder assured him.

"Without raising an alarm." Bennet added emphasizing. "Without the right thumbprint to press on the scanner, these doors will not open quietly. And since there´s a conference today, the security is double as high as usual."

"So how do we get inside?" Lassiter wanted to know, obviously confident that Noah would have a plan at hand.

"Since our two heroes here decided to compromise themselves early, we have two people less that can approach that elevator." the Company man summarized, making Shawn cry out scandalized.

"What? What are you talking about? We didn´t compromise ourselves. We were´n´t even in an argument."

Bennet didn´t give a response to that, simply switched on the screen to show them the video footage he´d recorded over the course of the last two hours. The tape showed Shawn and Gus who got dragged out of the staircase and into the lobby, right in front of the hotel manager. Shawn watched the tape with an amused smirk, until he realized that everybody was looking at him.

"What?" he cried defensively. "That´s not what it looks like. We were just …"

"Noah´s right, Shawn." Juliet interrupted him, before he could make up ridiculous excuses. "You blew your cover. They know your faces now."

"I didn´t blow our cover." Shawn insisted and pointed at Gus. "He did."

"What?" "You cracked the door."

"Because you told me to. And you were the one who wanted to take the stairs."

"I had a reason."

"A stupid reason. Only because you were too proud to talk to your therapist."

"I already told you. There´s no point in talking to her about something that´s …"

"She´s an expert in such things, Shawn."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Lassiter shouted, finally making them stop. For a moment the two of them just stared at him. "What has the therapist to do with all this?" Lassiter demanded to know.

"Nothing." Shawn, Gus and Juliet answered unisono.

The unexpected embarrassment in all of their faces made Lassiter frown. Neither of them would give him an explanation though.

"Anyway, you guys can´t go near that elevator anymore." Bennet summarized, to get going with the briefing.

"Why not?" Shawn demanded to know.

"Because they know your faces now and as soon as you go anywhere near that elevator, every alarm in this hotel will go off." Noah told him.

Lassiter snorted. "That will happen no matter where they are seen in this hotel. Great work, Spencer."

"At least your little stunt provided us with some information." Bennet went on, switching the picture on the screen again. "We now know who can open that elevator for us. After he threw you out, Mr. Emmerson, the hotel manager, decided to check if you guys did any damage." The screen showed them the hidden elevator, Shawn and Gus had discovered. Emmerson walked up to it and put his thumb on the scanner. A moment later the doors opened and he walked in. "His print opens the doors." Bennet spoke out what they´d just seen.

"Great." Shawn cheered. "Then all we have to do is getting his prints."

"Means we need his thumb." Lassiter agreed, causing Juliet to glance at him uncertain.

"I´ll get it for you." Sylar immediately promised, smiling when everybody looked at him. "You want it with or without the guy?"

Bennet kept looking at him, long and warning. "Considering the circumstances I´d say we shouldn´t spread bodyparts all over the place." he said at last.

Next to Shawn, Gus started to gag at the thought, holding a hand over his mouth to muffle the sound.

Sylar looked down at Noah, meeting the stern gaze of the man with a smile.

"He´ll take on the manager´s form to get us past the security and the system of the elevator." Mohinder spoke on his behalf.

Bennet´s eyes never left Sylar. "Will he?" he asked but of course he got no answer. "All right then." he gave it up at last. "But I´d rather have you get down there without being seen. Means we need the guards off that door for a while so you can slip in." He took his eyes off the scientist and lay them on the fake psychic instead. "And I think I have the perfect two guys to create a diversion for us."


	6. Plans

**Plans**

The doors of the elevator slid open, revealing the long hallway on the groundfloor before them, almost empty. Mohinder took a breath to steady his nerves. He was glad they´d taken the other elevator, the one at the north end of the building, not the one to the lobby. That way he gained a few minutes to prepare himself, to calm down and put on a mask of indifference.

He noticed Sylar glancing strangely at him and realized for the first time how nervous he must look.

Immediately he put on a more composed face. If Sylar noticed the difference, he didn´t say it.

"How long will Shawn and Gus need to get down here, what do you think?" Mohinder asked him while they stepped out of the car, to make their way down the hallway.

"Twenty-three minutes, eight seconds." Sylar answered dryly and when Mohinder looked at him, he raised a brow. "Was that a serious question?"

"Actually it was meant as one." Mohinder mumbled, still far too tensed.

"Don´t worry." Sylar said. "This part of the plan is a piece of cake."

"Not if we blow it."

"That´s their part, remember? They´ll draw enough attention for ten people. No one will even look twice at the two of us."

Mohinder took another breath. "I sure hope so."

He threw a brief glance upwards to the camera under the ceiling. Small, round and black. Unsuspicious. Usually unnoticed. Usually operated by the hotel security. Only they knew that currently things were different in the system, that the picture this camera sent to the real security monitors was fake and that the only ones who could really see them passing through this corridor, were Bennet, Lassiter and O´Hara.

"I heard what you said to Bennet earlier by the way." Sylar mentioned, his gaze looking everywhere but at Mohinder.

"I only want this operation to go smoothly." the scientist replied. "Matt´s family depends on it."

"I know that. I just wanted to say thanks anyway. You know. That you defended me before Bennet."

"Don´t mention it. Just do me a favor."

"What?"

"Stop provoking him."

Sylar stopped dead in his tracks for a moment before hurrying on. "I don´t provoke him." he cried.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don´t."

"Yes, you do." Mohinder snapped and stopped, so abruptly that Sylar flinched. "Yes, you do." he repeated, emphasizing every single word. "So stop doing it."

He kept on walking and Sylar followed, a smirk on his lips. "I just try to make conversations." he remarked and made Mohinder stop dead, once again.

"Are you kidding?" he cried. This man was just unbelievable.

**...**

"Dude, this is so awesome." Shawn exclaimed, while sneaking along the hallways of the hotel with light feet. "We´re so doing Ocean´s Eleven here."

"I know." Gus agreed, moving on the other side of the hallway to cover the whole perimeter.

"That makes you Basher." Shawn went on, almost too excited to keep his voice down to the whisper tone that was so crucial for their mission. "Or that dude from the gambling tables." he added after a brief consideration.

"What?" Gus glared at him with insulted pride. "So you only find the two roles for me that were actually played by the black dudes?" he snapped.

"Who else could you be?" Shawn replied. "I mean you´re obviously the safe cracker."

That argument finally seemed to convince Gus and even if it didn´t, it definitely stroke his ego, considering his confident smile.

"And I´m obviously the smart planner of the operation." Shawn went on, but Gus only snorted.

"You wish. If anyone planned this operation then it was Bennet. You´re only an expert in screwing up."

"That´s not true." Shawn cried. Now he was the one with the insulted pride.

"Of course it´s true. We´re only in this position of the plan, because you screwed up earlier. We could have been in the smart agents down there in the lobby. Instead we´re once again sneaking around, dressing up as servants. Servants, Shawn."

"And?"

"And? I´m not a servant. That´s total prejudice in regard of black people, Shawn."

"It´s just a disguise, dude."

"But a discriminating one."

"You really want to say, being a bellhop is something to be ashamed of?"

"Shawn!"

**...**

Up in the suite Bennet was sitting in front of the screens, his hand on his forehead and didn´t know what else to do than to shake his head. This was just ridiculous. Both of their so called teams had independently from each other, put a hold on the mission in order to clear out some very important differences. Only that something in his guts told him, that it was not necessarily the mission they talked about.

"I have a bad feeling about this plan." he remarked, shaking his head again. "Worse than bad. I mean … what the hell are they doing there? Arguing? About what?"

Lassiter only smirked, as if that whole situation was actually amusing him. "Welcome to my world." he said.

Noah couldn´t quiet share the humor he obviously found in this. There was too much at stake here and he was used to work with people who knew to remember that. He took his cell phone out and dialed Suresh´s number. On the screen, he could see the doctor stopping his argument with Sylar and reach for his cell.

"Yeah?" Noah heard his voice.

"Is there a problem, doctor?" the Company man asked, calm but firmly.

On the screen Mohinder looked up into the camera, an annoyed expression on his face. "Don´t worry about us." he answered the question. "We´re fine."

"I hope so."

The line got disconnected. Noah watched how Mohinder took his cell phone away and grabbed Sylar´s elbow, urging him to keep going. A moment later the two of them vanished around the corner and were out of sight. Noah glanced over to the second screen. Shawn and Gus were still arguing.

"You want to give _them_ a call?" he asked Carlton but the detective just snorted.

"What´s the point?" he asked indifferent.

Noah couldn´t remember when he´d been sweating on a mission the last time, because it had not happened in years. But now he did. How the hell was this happening?

Fortunately it turned out that Carlton was right and calling these two was unnecessary. On a certain point they just stopped arguing and entered the room they´d been heading for all along. For as long as they were in there Noah´s screen would remain empty. He wasn´t sure if that was a comforting thing though.

**...**

Gus took one of the hotel uniforms off the hook and held it over his chest, examining it. It was red with golden applications. The typical liftboy uniform, Gus thought to himself.

"Dude, you will look absolutely dashing in that, believe me." Shawn said and Gus shot him a dark glare.

"And about what you said earlier." his friend just went on, totally ignoring the silent warning. "You´re wrong. Because, if I would be the one screwing up all the time, it would make me Matt Damon´s character, but that´s ridiculous because I´m obviously Brad Pitt. While in fact I should be George Clooney because Jules can only be Julia Roberts and the two of them are supposed to be a couple."

"Lassiter plays Juliet´s husband." Gus pointed out, glad to have found something to pay Shawn back a little of the teasing.

"Are you kidding?" Shawn cried promptly. "He has nothing of George Clooney."

"Neither have you."

"You´re right. So I´ll be Brad Pitt then."

"You´re nuts." Gus remarked.

"Exactly." Shawn replied and pointed at Gus just as Gus pointed at him, celebrating this remarkable quote exchange they´d managed.

After that they changed into their disguises quietly, not speaking another word until they were ready to leave the closet again. The second half of the plan could begin.

**...**

Just seeing them come out of the closet again, only a few minutes later, fully dressed the way they were supposed to be and even acting as if they knew what they had to do, made Noah relax a little. He took a deep breath, convincing himself that things would go smoothly after all.

"Here we go."

"Let´s have a look at the conference, shell we?" Carlton suggested and Noah agreed.

A few switches on the keyboard and the lobby appeared on the screen before them, slowly getting crowded with people who were attempting today´s conference. After looking for a while, they spotted Sylar and Mohinder among those people, standing in the crowd as if they actually belonged there. Sort of.

The real guests of the conference were scattered around in small groups, eating the snacks on the buffet tables or drinking the champagne the service staff carried around. The two uninvited guests stood inbetween all this and Noah could do nothing but hope they wouldn´t try to make conversation with anyone, risking it to get caught in the process.

A few minutes later, Shawn and Gus reached the lobby, both of them carrying trays with champagne just the way the real staff did it. Noah had no idea where they´d gotten them from, but it definitely helped them to blend in. Again he took a breath.

"So far so good."

**...**

Sylar tapped Mohinder´s arm and motioned across the lobby with his chin. When Mohinder looked that way, his eyes met those of Shawn Spencer and Burton Guster, both of them looking over-serious as if they were in a bad version of Mission Impossible. The glance they shared lasted exactly two seconds and the two of them glanced away, performing something they obviously considered as acting natural.

Mohinder exchanged a helpless glance with Sylar, but his companion only shrugged, smiling indifferently. He held out a bowl he´d picked up from the snack table, still munching on the contents himself.

"Water Melon?" he offered.

Mohinder scowled in annoyance and put his attention back to Shawn and Gus, trying to do it unsuspiciously and in a way that it wouldn´t look as if he was stalking these two servants. As it turned out it wasn´t the easiest thing to do, especially since he was so obvious in his tensed state. A man in a gray suit passed him, glancing at him irritated. Mohinder turned around quickly and when Sylar offered him the bowl again, he snatched it from him with a growl.

"Calm down." Sylar told him, still too lighthearted for Mohinder´s taste. "Just enjoy the ride."

"This is not a sightseeing tour." Mohinder hissed. "We´re here for a reason."

"Exactly." Sylar replied, his smile a little smaller now. He took Mohinder by the shoulders and held him firmly, his gaze serious. "And when you don´t relax a bit, people will start worrying if you might get a seizure or something." he remarked. "Remember the plan? Blend in? Look around. These people we´re supposed to blend into … they´re actually having fun." he wagged his head a little, adding: "As much as a politician can have fun that is. But I think you got my point, doctor."

He released Mohinder again and turned back to the snack table to collect himself a bowl of pineapple. When he was done, he threw him another meaningful glance, making Mohinder feel extremely embarrassed. He was just not meant for this. He was a scientist, not a special agent.

He picked up one of the water melon pieces and put it into his mouth. It needed several more for him to calm down and to actually breath better again. Sylar was right. He was endangering the whole mission acting like that. God, he hated it when Sylar was right, especially when he looked at him like he did now.

Mohinder didn´t say a word, only nodded at him, telling him that he was fine. Now.

His eyes caught sight of Shawn and Gus again. The two of them had made their way over to the reception, mixing themselves with the other waiters, that were still busily walking up and down the place. Alone behind the reception there were three clerks, working their computers or books or whatever it was they had to do during this conference. Right now the reception seemed to be the most busy place in this lobby, except for the snack tables.

One of the actual waiters noticed his two colleagues lingering around without carrying new food to the tables or handing champagne to the guests. He stopped to reprove them. Mohinder´s throat tightened at the sight. But then Shawn exaggeratedly agreed with the other man and was left alone, never intending to actually pick up his work again. Mohinder exhaled.

"Just … stay calm." Sylar repeated but this time his gaze was tensed as well.

He scanned the area around the reception, estimating. Shawn was currently trying to slip behind the reception, but one of the three clerks exited just in that moment, not even noticing that Shawn avoided a crash with him just in time.

"They´re never gonna make it back there." Mohinder shook his head and this time Sylar didn´t tell him to stay calm. Instead he looked around the lobby as if searching something. When he´d found it, he tapped Mohinder´s elbow with his own, to show him.

Mohinder followed his gaze but didn´t see anything. Only the snack table on the other side of the lobby.

"What …?" he asked, confused.

"Watch this." Sylar told him, holding out his hand, imitating a gun with his thumb and index finger.

His eyes were fixed on the table and for a moment Mohinder thought he was going to cut it in half or something like that. He was about to pull Sylar´s arm down but there it had already happened. Sylar´s thumb flipped down, only once and on the other side of the lobby a big bowl of punch exploded, spilling its pink-red content all over the table, and the people who stood around it.

Gasps and shocked screams echoed through the lobby and within only five seconds all attention was on that snack table. Heads were turned, people skipped back, security hurried around to make sure that no bomb had just gone off. But the most important thing was that almost every single waiter that had gathered around the reception, was now looking the other way, giving Shawn and Gus the chance to slip behind their backs without being noticed.

One exchanged glance between Shawn and Sylar and the fake psychic understood what had happened. He dragged Gus behind, whispering something at him and then shoved him forward. After Gus had slipped in quietly, diving under the counter, Shawn pushed himself off the ground and effectively rolled himself over this very counter, landing behind the female clerk with a thud that Sylar could hear even from that distance – he just couldn´t believe it. Neither could Gus, regarding his face.

Fortunately the girl was busy talking to someone on the phone, so she didn´t see them. At the time she´d hung up and turned around, Shawn and Gus had slipped through the door in the back and were out of sight.

**...**

"What the hell are they doing?" Benet cried, unable to believe what he was seeing. "They´re supposed to get in there quietly. To act unsuspicious."

"I believe that is what they´re trying to do." Juliet remarked with a sigh, making him turn around and stare at her.

"Is that a joke?" he cried.

"Now you know what I´m dealing with." Lassiter spoke, totally calm and padded his back, a smirk on his face. "Don´t worry." he said. "We´re just getting started. Wait until Spencer starts to improvise."

**...**

Mohinder turned to Sylar, a look of utter disbelieve on his face. He was laughing.

"You tell me one more time to stay calm." he chuckled, shaking his head.

Sylar didn´t even know what to reply. This was something even he hadn´t expected. Mohinder took the little fruit bowl he´d emptied earlier and downed the juice that was left in it as if it were Whiskey.

In this moment, Sylar´s eyes found a man in the crowd that had gathered around the table of the exploded bowl. A circle of spectators had formed there. They were laughing about the fright the incident has given them, some of them making supposedly funny comments about a bomb threat that came from the kitchen. Inbetween all this stood the man they´d been waiting for all along.

Emmerson, the hotel manager, listening to the report his security people were giving him.

Sylar nudged Mohinder´s shoulder to gain his attention. As soon as his eyes found Emmerson, his posture got rigid again. But meeting Sylar´s gaze he composed himself, taking only one deep breath to prepare. Eventually he nodded.

"Let´s go and get him."

Together they made their way through the crowd, crossing the lobby, not too fast but quickly enough to make sure Emmerson wouldn´t be gone before they could reach him. And sure enough, the manager was just in the process of leaving, now that he´d made sure his people could handle the situation.

Sylar and Mohinder exchanged a glance and parted ways. It was Mohinder who had to reach the manager first, and somehow he managed it to make that happen. Pretending to look the other way, he ran into Emmerson and with a cry of surprise, pushed him backwards. Right into Sylar, who caught the stumbling man with steady hands.

"Oh dear god, I´m so sorry." Mohinder cried. "Are you all right, sir?"

Sylar let go of the manager again, looking him over as if to make sure he wasn´t injured. Emmerson composed himself, straightening his jacket to regain his dignity.

"Don´t worry." he half chuckled. "Nothing happened."

"I don´t know, I´m so clumsy. I can´t tell you how sorry I am." Mohinder kept talking.

"It´s all right. Never mind. Have a nice day, sir." And with that the manager retrieved, making his way over to the reception in a hurry.

Mohinder glanced after him for a minute before turning an asking gaze to Sylar.

The shapeshifter only raised his hand for him, rubbing together the tips of his fingers. He continued without transition to show Mohinder an approving face, appreciating his performance and the shoulders of the other man relaxed a little. So this was the more complicated part of the plan. Now all they could do was wait for Shawn and Gus to initiate the next part.

**...**

"Dude, how long do you still need?" Shawn hissed, from his position at the door.

"Don´t rush me, Shawn." Gus demanded, his attention a hundred percent on the hotel safe. "This is some delicate work." he told him, taking deep and steady breaths. "Just let me work."

Shawn watched his friend work, with only a slight feeling of irritation. He´d seen him do this before so it wasn´t completely new to him, no matter how weird it was to see how much Gus blustered into this … work. And then he heard a click and the safe that Gus had been trying to seduce went open.

"Dude, that´s so great." Shawn exclaimed, hurrying through the room to stand beside him.

"I know." Gus´ eyes were glowing, facing that open door.

For a moment they were just standing there, looking at the now available contents of the hotel safe. Shawn frowned. Something was wrong. Something should have happened by now.

"Why is there no alarm?" he wondered, looking up to the ceiling.

"This is a hotel safe, Shawn." Gus told him. „Not a bank deposit box. I don´t think they have an alarm."

"But … how are they supposed to know they´re getting robbed?" Shawn asked and hurried back to the door he´d been supposed to watch. When he peeked out again, he almost laughed out loud. "Dude, can you believe it?" he cried. "They haven´t even noticed us yet. We could just walk out of here with all that stuff in there."

"That´s really not good secured." Gus agreed, highly disapproving with the safety of this hotel. "I mean, look at all that value stuff in here."

His eyes found something in the safe and he gasped, reaching in to get a collier of diamonds out, holding it up for Shawn to see it.

"Those are worth at least ten grands." he cried scandalized and put it back in. "I never put any of my stuff in a hotel safe again."

A ringing tone echoed through the room and made them both jump. Shawn´s first thought that there might be an alarm after all, was gone as soon as he recognized the ring tone of his cellphone. He got it out and answered the call.

"Who´s there?" he asked nervous.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Bennet asked, impatiently. "You want to stand there all day?"

Shawn looked up again and spotted the camera that hung under the ceiling. "Well, obviously we´re just too good for them." he defended himself, staring into that small lens. "What are we supposed to do? Yell out there: Hello, you morons, guess what. We´re in the process of robbing you?"

"I suggest you do _something_ to gain their attention." was all Bennet would reply. "And I suggest you do it now."

"All right, all right." Shawn grumbled and hung up without waiting for a response. He looked around for a moment and then walked over to a small desk.

"Hurry up, Shawn." Gus urged him.

"Would you stop rushing me?" Shawn hissed. "That´s some delicate work I´m doing here."

With that he took the table with both hands and threw it over, shattering everything that had been on it around the room.

**...**

Outside the two receptionists flinched at the sudden noise that came from their backroom, the room where the hotel safe was located. Just as one of them reached the door to look inside, the door got ripped open and two guys came jumping out, both of them wielding guns around, shouting like in a bank robbery situation. The two receptionists screamed and ducked for cover, while the two culprits jumped over the counter to make a run for the door.

"Security!" someone shouted and then there was a big mess of screaming and running people.

"Freeze!" one of the security men yelled. "Stop, or we´ll shoot."

People screamed and hurried to get away from that area around the main entrance, the place where the bullets would fly, should there be any shooting.

The two running men had almost reached the door now. One of the guards pulled his gun, aiming at them. But just before he could actually shoot, something made him slip and hit the ground. He lost the gun from his hand and when he tried to reach for it, it slid away as if someone had kicked against it. It vanished under a table, out of his reach.

The man cursed and struggled back to his feet. But as it turned out the running thieves had already been stopped without his help, just outside the hotel. Just as they´d left it, rushing out into the street, a car had crossed their path and stopped with squeaking tires. The white one of the thieves had been too fast to stop in time and after a somersault over the hood, he´d ended up lying sprawled out on the street, his theft lying scattered all around him. Security really only needed to collect these two jokers.

**...**

"What are you waiting for?" Mohinder cried behind him. He was already standing at the door that led into the staircase, looking back at Sylar impatiently. But Sylar had had no choice. When he´d seen the security man pull his gun, he´d had to do something. Now that he saw that Shawn and Gus were all right, he could keep going.

"Sylar, for Christ´s sake." Mohinder urged and Sylar turned around, to follow him.

"Coming."

He barely registered the sound of a door that had been opened just behind him, one of the backdoors that led into the big conference room. When he finally turned around, he ran into a man and

stumbled. Mumbling an apology he hurried on, barely glancing at him, in order to keep walking. But Mohinder wasn´t urging anymore. He was staring in shock. Not at Sylar though. At something else. Something behind him. And then the man he´d just ran into, spoke up, and he knew why.

"You." a familiar voice spat out and Sylar´s mouth dropped open. Slowly he turned around to look into the face of a man he´d considered dead.

"Parkman?"


	7. Alive

**Alive**

"Dude, run!" Shawn shouted, never slowing down in his escape attempt. He´d almost reached the big glass doors that led out to the street.

"Shawn!" Gus cried behind him.

"We´re gonna make it." Shawn felt exhilarated when he pushed open the door, still not slowing down. Fresh air hit his face.

"Shawn!"

"We´re gonna make it." he cried again and then he was on the street.

"SHAWN!"

Squeaking tires and a loud honking horn appeared right in front of him and Shawn´s eyes went wide. Withing three seconds he´d lost the ground beneath his feet and stumbled over the hood of the car, the world around him swirling wildly. And then he fell … for one second.

His back hit the ground and the air left his lungs. Still everything was spinning, paper was flying all around him like the biggest confetti he´d ever seen on a new years eve party.

"Shawn, are you okay?" he heard Gus ask and then someone demanded that he should freeze and take the hands behind his back.

Shawn moved his head, still feeling dizzy after this crash with reality and looked into the face of a smirking Lassiter. The detective raised a brow.

"Am I dead?" Shawn asked and Lassiter chuckled.

"Not yet." he replied and then reached behind himself, to get the badge off his belt. He held it up for the security men to see. "It´s all right." he told them. "We´ll take care of them. Police. I´m detective Lassiter and this is detective O´Hara. We´ve been after these two clowns for quiet a while now."

After this little speech he reached down and lifted Shawn up, putting cuffs on him almost in the same movement.

On the sidewalk the hotel security handed Gus over to Juliet, rather willingly. She gave him a victorious smile.

"Looks like your little coup didn´t quiet work, Guster, did it?" she asked and Gus snorted.

"What is going on here?" a new voice joined the gathering.

The manager frowned warily, at the fact that the two culprits, who were two familiar faces to him, got arrested by two faces he´d also seen before.

"Who are you?" he demanded to know. "I assume you´re no newly weds, after all. Am I right?"

"You´re right, sir." Lassiter affirmed. „Detective Lassiter and O´Hara. We came here looking for these two. We had reason to believe that they would try to rob your safe during the conference. And we were right."

"Yeah." Shawn shouted, leaning away from Lassiter as if he tried to break free. "But we almost had it, babe! Wohoooo! Didn´t we? Gus, tell em."

"I´d rather not." his friend replied.

"We were almost there." Shawn insisted.

"We weren´t even close." Gus corrected.

"That´s enough." Juliet put and end to this and shoved Gus over to the car. "You have the right to remain silent. But you already know the rest to pieces, so I´ll just spare that."

"I hope these two loonys didn´t cause too much damage." Lassiter addressed the hotel manager.

"It could have been worse." was the grim answer. "Fortunately you were there to arrest them right away. That spares me the trouble to hold them until the police arrives."

He met Shawn´s gaze who flashed him his best victorious smile.

"These men are crazies I assume?" Emmerson asked uncertain.

"You assume right, sir." Lassiter replied totally calm. "This is the thirteenth attempt of them to rob a totally secure location. They were caught every time. And they never learned anything from their lessons."

"And we never will!" Shawn shouted. "Wohooo!"

Lassiter only smiled and gave the manager a reassuring nod. "We´ll bring them back to the mental institute." he informed him.

"I sure hope so." was the relieved response. "Thank you very much, detectives."

"It was a pleasure." And of course Emmerson couldn´t possibly guess how true that was.

**...**

Mohinder just couldn´t believe what he saw. All the movement around and inside of him had come to a sudden stop, when he´d seen the face of the man Sylar had collided with. The face of the man he´d believed to be dead. But there was no doubt of who he was seeing, standing right there, very much alive. The eyes that currently rested on Sylar were far too hard to belong to a stranger who didn´t know him.

"You." Matt spat with all the disgust Mohinder could remember from his old friend. And then his eyes darted away from Sylar and found him. "Mohinder." he spoke, but his eyes went back to Sylar, only a second later, hostile and wary. "What are you guys doing here?" he demanded to know.

Mohinder was still far too shocked to actually compute what was happening right in front of him.

"We came here for you." he heard himself say.

"Me."

"Your family, Parkman." Sylar corrected.

"You came here for my family." Matt repeated, with cutting irony.

"My god, Matt, we thought you were dead." Mohinder´s whole body and mind felt numb. How was that possible? Molly hadn´t found him.

"Well, I´m not." Matt replied, totally oblivious to his old friend´s shock.

Mohinder shook his head, helplessly. "What happened?" was all he knew to ask.

"Happened?" Matt snapped. "Nothing. Nothing happened. I´m fine."

The hostility in his words was like a mental splash of water on Mohinder´s numbed senses. Finally this numbness that had slowed down his thinking went away and allowed him to react in real time again. Had he just heard right?

"Fine?" he cried. "How can you be fine? Matt, what´s going on here?"

"I could ask you the same." Matt replied, his tone low, glancing at Sylar with hateful eyes. "What are you doing here … with him?" he demanded to know, staring at Mohinder. "What, did you join the club of the human monsters now?" He faced Sylar again. "Or you?"

Then suddenly he took a step back, raising his hands. "You know what? I don´t care. I don´t care what you´re doing with each other. Just get lost. Now."

"We came here to help." Without wanting it, Mohinder felt anger rise in his chest. He knew Matt had no reason to trust Sylar but he knew _him_. This behavior was just ridiculous.

"We." Matt repeated and laughed, as if this was the best joke he´d ever heard. "I don´t believe that you´re actually working with this monster." he shouted. "Did he erase your memory or something? Did you forget that he killed your father?"

"I´m not a killer anymore, Parkman." Sylar stated, holding out a hand, as if to keep him from jumping at Mohinder´s throat.

Matt glared at him, pure venom in his eyes.

"You´ll always be a killer." he hissed, no argument allowed.

"Matt, do you know that your family is being held hostage in this building?" Mohinder struggled to keep himself from shouting.

They hadn´t come here to fight, at least not with Matt, and frankly Mohinder was tired of having to convince other people about Sylar´s intentions. The reason why they´d come here was still imprisoned down in the cellar of this building and they needed to act quickly, if they wanted to save them.

"Jan and Matty are fine." Matt told him matter of factly, totally dismissing the truth of facts Mohinder had just lay down for him. When he met his eyes, they were hard and uncompromising. "Soon they´ll be." he stated, his voice quavering only a bit, almost impossible to notice.

Mohinder stared at him and suddenly he had the worst revelation.

"My god, Matt, what have you done?" he breathed, almost scared of the answer.

"That´s none of your business." Matt replied. "Everything went just fine before you came along. So get lost. I won´t allow you to screw this up."

"No matter what they told you." Sylar stepped forward. „You can´t expect them to keep up the bargain."

Matt only smiled and nodded at him. "Interesting how well you know that." he hissed.

"Matt, just stop it." Mohinder shouted, finally losing his patience. "Tell me what happened."

"Why should I? Why should I want your help? Yours from all people in the world? You´ve obviously chosen a side. Your daddy must be really proud of you."

"Okay, that´s enough, Parkman." Sylar growled. "You can hate me as much as you want but Mohinder came here to help you. Your family." His gaze was almost pleading. „Do you really wanna risk their lives? Think of it."

For a moment Matt seemed caught off guard. Finally one of them seemed to have gotten through to him.

"No." he admitted, at last. "You´re right."

"Then let us …" Mohinder started but Matt talked over him.

"And that´s why you´ll leave now." he said. "Both of you."

And then all the sudden there was something strange in his mind, that made Mohinder want to turn around and leave. As if it was very important for him to be somewhere else right now. And somehow he knew that this was Matt´s will, overcasting his mind, not his own. But he couldn´t do anything. Fighting it would be like trying to stop a rolling truck that went down a slope full speed. Especially when Matt was as determined as he was now.

And so Mohinder just turned around and started walking down the hall, never looking back one single time.

Sylar was beside him, his gaze as straight ahead as his. They walked down the hallway together, until they reached the corner. After that they just went on, heading along the corridors of this hotel, knowing only one thing, that they had to leave this place and that they had to do it fast. That they had to leave Matt behind, so he could deal with himself and his business, all on his own.

**...**

Matt Parkman didn´t dare to breath until they´d disappeared around the corner. The two men who could have killed his family just by being here. God, if they´d been seen … but no. No thinking about this. Not now. Not after everything was almost over. He´d been through too much, had done too many unthinkable things to even consider such possibilities.

He´d betrayed a friend, a friend who´d come here to help him, and he was well aware of that.

But he´d betrayed more than just him. He´d betrayed everything he´d ever believed in, his own sense for right and wrong and he´d done it willingly. Worse, he´d used his powers to commit an unthinkable crime, and with that he´d betrayed his oath as a cop too. All of this to save his family, the two people that meant the most to him on this earth. His wife and son. Janice and little Matt.

And now he was here, waiting for the world to collapse or for everything to be finally over. There was nothing he could do now. Things were done and he could not go back in time to change that. No one could. Not anymore.

A door was opened behind him and Matt flinched, his heart pounding against the inside of his ribcage.

"Parkman, where the hell are you?" Perkins, his personal shadow asked him, warily.

Matt quickly swallowed his nervousness and answered him. "Oh, I … I just needed to take a breath for a moment." he claimed. "I wasn´t going to run."

Perkins frowned, looking at him estimating.

"I didn´t think so." he replied and checked the hallway, as if he expected someone to be there.

Matt had to fight the urge to turn around and check it himself, reminding himself that Mohinder and the killer that was with him, couldn´t be there. Not after he´d send them away.

Perkins eyed him, his frown as deep as ever, but then he seemed to dismiss his suspicions. Probably because the plan had been set in motion anyway. And even if he´d think Matt able to try something, Perkins knew very well that he didn´t have a chance, not for anything.

"Shana wants you to be present at the speech." he said with a motion to the door.

"Why that? I already did what you asked me to. He believes everything you told him."

"She still wants you there." Perkins replied. "Just in case he should need another push."

Matt didn´t say anything. Even if he´d insisted on the fact that this wouldn´t be necessary, he knew very well that this was not the only reason why they wanted him there. They might not believe him to try anything that could risk his family, but they would watch him, no matter what.

"You coming?" Perkins asked, almost conversationally and Matt nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I´m coming."

As he followed Perkins back to the stage he´d just tried to escape from – not in order to get away from them but because he couldn´t stand it to be present when it happened – the crowd had already gathered in the big conference room, all the politicians and their associates seated along the long tables, a few reporters standing close to the doors to broadcast this essentially unimportant meeting, which was only one more of so many that happened almost every month all over the country. But today it would be something more than this. So much more. And this was his fault.

Matt threw a glance to the other side of the stage, meeting the eyes of a woman. Her blonde hair was hanging lose over her shoulders and she was smiling. Excited. Another glance was exchanged, this time between her and Perkins. Perkins nodded. Everything was all right. Everything was ready. Shana nodded back, glad.

Matt gritted his teeth. This was like hell. A terrible, terrible mistake. But he´d done it to save his family and even if he wanted to, there was nothing he could do to change anything now. No matter what would happen, today it would start. And after that … god alone knew what would happen then. It wasn´t his responsibility any longer. His only responsibility was his family. And that was what he tried to focus on, when the regular schedule of the conference was suddenly put on hold, by something no one in this room – or anywhere outside of it for that matter – had expected to happen.

Today´s speaker stepped to the microphone, after leaving Shana at the side of the stage, an expression of disturbed uncertainty on his face.

"Ehm … ladies and gentlemen." he addressed the crowd. "I was just informed about a …" and there he stopped, staring into the faces before him, totally helpless. "To be honest, I don´t know what to say." he admitted. "Something has happened and … I think it´s the best I´ll just step aside and let someone else do the explaining from now on. When you see him, you´ll understand my confusion. Believe me."

And with that he stepped aside and another men entered the stage.

Matt didn´t want to look at him, knowing that he would feel the guilt of what he´d done with every breath, but he just couldn´t look away. Gasps in the audience filled the room when this unexpected speaker stepped to the microphone and faced the crowd before him.

"Hello." he greeted with a calm sonore voice. "I know it must be a shock for most of you to see me standing here today. But believe me, there is a very good reason … for everything. And if you just listen to me for a moment, I will explain it all to you …"

**...**

Up in the hotel suite, Noah Bennet sat before the screens of his little commando base and just couldn´t believe it. This was just impossible. It couldn´t be. But he saw it. The man who stood on that stage in the conference room of this hotel was … he was supposed to be dead.

The door got opened behind him and Noah jumped up from his seat, swirling around to meet the gaze of Carlton Lassiter and his partner.

"What the hell is going on down there?" he asked, shouting even though he tried not to.

Lassiter reacted with a startled frown. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I´m talking about this." Noah cried, pointing at the screen and at the man it showed.

Carlton only frowned a second time, cocking his head. "What about it?" he asked.

"You want to tell me that you have no idea how this man can be standing on that stage right now?" Noah blurred out, losing his patience more and more and, as he just realized, closing in on something that could be called a panic.

"I don´t even know who this is." Lassiter stated, looking him over in worried irritation.

"Where is Shawn?" detective O´Hara spoke up, looking around the room.

"What?" Gus cried and looked around as well. "I don´t know. I thought he was right behind me."

This change in the subject came so unexpectedly that Noah lost his drive. While Guster walked back to the door and threw a look outside, Noah took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He needed to calm down. There had to be a totally logical explanation for everything. He only needed to find it.

Gus came back in, an irritated frown on his forehead. "He´s not out there." he said.

"Why should he run off?" Juliet wondered. "Did he say anything to you?"

But Gus shook his head.

"I can´t reach Suresh or Sylar either." Bennet stated, not sure why this seemed so significant all the sudden.

Carlton threw him an asking gaze, a gaze that said clearly that he thought him hysteric instead of professional, the way it should be. And he was right. To a certain degree.

"Noah, what´s the matter?" he demanded to know. "Did I miss something?"

"What´s the matter?" Noah repeated as calm as he could and lost the battle against his nerves again, shouting: "There´s a man standing on a stage that should be dead for years and he´s right here, in this very hotel."

He turned up the volume of the screen so they could hear for themselves but they didn´t get the chance to listen to it very long. The sound of the door being opened again, interrupted them and made them turn around.

Noah expected to see Shawn in the door, or maybe Sylar and Mohinder. But instead he was facing another familiar face, he hadn´t expected. Another face of a friend, he´d considered to be dead.

Hiro Nakamura entered the room with careful steps, almost sneaking in, as if he wasn´t sure if he would meet friends or foes. He looked at everybody one by one, searching for something and when he finally met Noah´s eyes, he seemed to have found it. All the sudden the concentrated expression on his face was gone, replaced by a bright smile, one that was only too familiar to Noah.

Hiro threw up his arms victoriously.

"Yattaaaaa!" he cried, making everybody in the room wince under the sudden noise.

Noah stared at him in total loss. On the screen behind him, Nathan Petrelli kept talking to the crowd, speaking about a conspiracy within the government that he was about to uncover very soon.

In this moment, it seemed, the world had stopped breathing for a second.


	8. Three days in Time

**Three Days in Time**

Three days before Ando Masahashi would call Noah Bennet for help, Hiro Nakamura was lying slumped over his desk in the office of his family´s company. He was groaning, holding his stomach in agony, a slightly grayish color on his face, that actually started to worry his friend. Him maybe, but not Kimiko, who stood before him, arms crossed and unimpressed by the show her little brother was performing.

"Don´t fall for this, Ando." she told her husband. "I already know that. And so do you."

Ando didn´t say anything but his gaze said clearly that he knew she was right.

"Uhhhh. I don´t know, Kimiko." Hiro whimpered. "I really don´t feel good. I think I´m sick. I …"

"Just stop it, Hiro." she finally snapped. "That´s the same trick you used to play when we were still kids and you didn´t want to go to school. It didn´t work back then and it won´t work now. This meeting is important."

"She´s right, Hiro." Ando supported her, speaking much gentler than his wife. "You are both representatives of Yamamoto Industries. You should both be there."

Hiro sighed, looking into the stern eyes of his sister, pleadingly. "Kimiko. We both know that you are the one leading this company." he said and for a moment her stern gaze actually faltered, making her blink in surprise. "I just carry the name of our father." Hiro went on. "But it was you who saved this company from going down and it is you who should represent it. I would only embarrass you."

And as unbelievable as it was, Kimiko´s eyes started to glisten with unexpected affection for her little brother, something that happened only once or twice a year, under normal circumstances. But now she looked down on him and actually smiled, touched by his words.

"Hiro." she lay her hand over his. "That´s so sweet of you to say that."

He smiled back at her, feeling new hope rising in his chest.

"But it won´t save you from coming with me, so stand up and get ready." she told him and Hiro slumped back into his seat, sighing deeply.

He glanced over to Ando but his friend only shrugged, not helping him in any way. It seemed that it was his inevitable fate that he had to attempt this very long and very boring business meeting.

He was in the process of standing up to succumb to this fate, when the phone on his desk started ringing. He immediately picked it up, practically jumped at it.

"Dial a Hero." he spoke with an expecting smile. "How can we save you?"

"Oh, no." Kimiko cried. "Don´t you dare. We have a meeting."

But Hiro shushed her, holding up a hand and giving her a face that asked: Where are your manners? I´m talking to someone.

Kimiko glared at him furiously and pointed at him, mouthing: You´ll come with me.

"Hiro?" the caller spoke and Hiro faced away from his angry sister. "God, I … I wasn´t sure if this line would actually work."

Hiro halted, recognizing the voice that obviously called from America.

"Matt Parkman? This is Matt Parkman." he told Ando and Kimiko with an excited smile.

"What does he want?" Ando asked, stepping forward.

Hiro turned back to the phone, taking on a more straightened posture. "Welcome Matt Parkman." he greeted his friend. "How are you? How can I be of service?"

"Hiro." Matt Parkman sighed. "I´m sorry to call you like this, but I need your help."

"That´s what a hero is there for. What can I do?"

"It´s nothing I can explain over the phone. But it´s urgent. Could you come and meet me?"

"Sure. Immediately."

"What does he want?" Kimiko demanded to know, guessing something she wouldn´t like.

Hiro stuffed a finger into his ear to drown her out in order to understand what Matt Parkman was telling him. After he´d told him the address where he wanted to meet him, Hiro nodded.

"I understand. I´ll be there on the double."

"You what?" Kimiko rushed but Ando lay a hand on her shoulder to keep her calm.

"Again, Hiro." Matt Parkman said, sounding worried. "It´s really urgent. I wouldn´t ask you if it wasn´t important."

"Ando and I can be with you in …"

"No." Matt interrupted him. "Not Ando. Only you. I can´t explain it now. Not over the phone. You´ll understand it when you´re here."

Hiro frowned uncertain. "All right." he said, glancing at his friend.

"Please hurry."

"Don´t worry, Matt Parkman. I´m already on my way." He hung up, facing his sister.

"Oh, no, you´re not." she stated matter of factly. "We. Have. A meeting."

"I´m very sorry, sister."

"Don´t you sister me."

"But a friend of mine is in trouble and I´m not going to let him down." Hiro finished his statement with determination.

"What´s the matter?" Ando asked, worry about Matt coloring his voice.

"I don´t know." Hiro admitted. "He didn´t tell me."

"He didn´t tell you?" Kimiko cried. "How are you supposed to help him when you don´t know what is going on?"

"He will tell me." Hiro assured her. "As soon as I see him."

"Don´t even think of it." Kimiko hissed. "You can see your friend later. After our meeting."

When Hiro spoke again, he did so with a solemn face of dignity. "I´m sorry, sister." he said. "But fate rarely calls upon us at a moment of our choosing."

Kimiko just stared at him, shaking her head in confusion. "What?"

Ando rolled his eyes. "That´s a quote from Transformers 2." he told her. "Revenge of the Fallen."

Kimiko halted, blinking. She inhaled as if to say something but in the end she only shrugged, taken too much by surprise with this.

"Oh." was all she said. "Well … in that case. But we still have a meeting."

"You will do just fine, Kimiko." Hiro assured her with a warm smile. "You always do. And you have Ando."

"Matt will need us both." Ando insisted but Hiro shook his head.

"No. He only wants to see me."

"What? Why that?"

"I don´t know. But don´t worry. He´ll have his reasons." Hiro stepped away from his chair to stand in a better space. "I have to go." he said, smiling with excitement. "I call you as soon as I know more. Promise."

"But Hiro."

"Until then."

"Hiro!"

But Hiro had already squeezed his eyes shut and vanished into thin air.

**...**

When he reappeared he was standing before a hotel in Los Angeles, exactly where Matt Parkman had asked him to come to. He entered the lobby, looking around for his old friend. He couldn´t spot him. Instead a man in a gray suit approached him, a polite smile on his face.

"You must be Mr. Nakamura if I´m correct." he said.

Hiro smiled at him and took a quick bow. "You are correct." he said. "Hiro Nakamura."

"My name is Emmerson, I´m the manager of this hotel." the man introduced himself. "I got instructions to welcome you as soon as you´d arrive."

"I´m supposed to meet a friend of mine here." Hiro told this nice Mr. Emmerson. "Mr. Matt Parkman. He´s a detective."

Emmerson nodded. "Please, follow me."

He led Hiro to a door with a golden sign on it that read conference room.

"Your friends are in there." he told him, nodded politely and then retrieved.

Hiro looked after him for a moment, before eagerly opening the door to step in.

The room was wide but not too big. Just big enough for a limited business meeting, probably about the size his sister had wanted him to attempt. But this room was not used for a business meeting. A meeting yes, but the people inside were not dressed like business men. Hiro spotted Matt Parkman among them and smiled at him, performing another bow to greet him.

"Matt Parkman."

Matt didn´t seem too happy to see him though. "Hiro." he shook his head regretfully. "I´m so sorry to drag you into this."

Hiro was confused. "What is it?" he asked and all the sudden the men around him, were holding guns in their hands, aiming at him.

Hiro flinched and hurried to raise his hands. A glance at his friend Matt Parkman told him that he´d known very well, that this would happen.

"Mr. Hiro Nakamura." a female voice spoke up and then a blonde woman, wearing a nice white lady´s suit stepped forward to greet him. "Welcome." she said with a smile. "I´m very sorry for the rough greeting. But you´ll understand in time."

"What does all this mean?" Hiro asked. "Who are you?"

"My name is Shana Stockwell." she introduced herself politely. "And you Mr. Nakamura are here because I need your help to save a life."

Hiro immediately forgot the guns that were aimed at him and lowered his arms to stand straight.

"A hero is always ready to do his duty." he spoke. "Who is it who needs to be saved?"

Shana Stockwell looked at him with a strange glimmer in her eyes, when she answered: "Nathan Petrelli."

"Huh?" Hiro´s mouth dropped open in confusion. "Nathan Petrelli? But … Nathan Petrelli is already dead."

"I know that." was all she said, not a bit irritated by that fact. "For two years, seven months and six days to be precise."

Hiro looked into her eyes and then glanced over at Matt Parkman, briefly. And he understood. "You want me to go to the past and change time."

Shana Stockwell performed one slow nod, her smile brighter as ever. "Exactly."

Hiro had the most serious face, when he spoke again. "I´m very sorry, Miss Stockwell." he said. "But I have sworn an oath, that I will never travel back in time. Never again. Too many things can go wrong."

Shana only looked at him, with something like pity, both brows raised. She nodded. "I was afraid that you´d say that. Unfortunately I can´t accept that."

"I´m very sorry." Hiro said and meant it. "Nathan Petrelli was my friend too. But I cannot change the past."

"You better think about that again." Shana replied, her gaze somehow harder than it had been before. She rounded Matt until she stood behind him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. "Because you see, Mr. Parkman here has a family that counts on him." she let Hiro know. "That´s the reason why he called you. He would have never done that if it wouldn´t be for them."

Hiro was confused. "I don´t understand." he admitted.

"They have Janice and little Matt, Hiro." Matt spoke it out. "They say if we don´t do what they want … they´ll …"

"You see." Shana took over again. "It´s not only one life that is at stake here. But three."

Hiro stared at her, in utter disbelieve. "You are no hero." he found. "You´re a villain … aise."

Shana only smiled. "I´m trying to save a life." she stated.

"By threatening an innocent woman and her child? This is something only a villain would do."

"Call it what you want. But it is your decision what happens to this innocent woman and her child. Not mine. You wouldn´t want them to get hurt, would you?"

Hiro met the gaze of Matt Parkman and he could see the desperation in his eyes. Of course he was. It was about his family. But there were certain things a hero could never do, not in a thousand years.

"Do you have any idea what could happen, if we change the past?" he asked Shana. "Because of Nathan Petrelli´s death, things have happened, that have set the course for the future. They are part of the natural order of time that led to the present we live in. If I would go back in time now and change what was supposed to happen, the consequences could be disastrous. Things could happen that you can´t even imagine. Much worse than everything that happened after Nathan died. That´s the butterfly effect. It could destroy everything. Step on a butterfly today and it could cause …"

"Then you better find a way to save his life without stepping on a butterfly." Shana interrupted him, her voice gentle but unmistakable in its firmness.

"That´s not possible." Hiro told her and she smiled again. "You´ll make it possible. You´re a hero, aren´t you? Nothing´s impossible for a real hero."

Hiro didn´t say a word, just looked at her.

"What´s the matter?" she asked, mocking his reaction. "You get the chance to save three lives." she stated matter of factly. "Oh, and before you even think about it. You won´t find his wife and kid to go there and save them. Not even I know where they are, so he doesn´t know it either by reading my mind. But believe me, I get the message through to where they are. In case you should try anything else but what I asked you to do."

Hiro looked at her, sad and defeated and for a moment, she seemed to react to his expression. Only for a moment.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked and she smiled again.

"You said it yourself." she said. "I am a villainaise. I don´t need a reason for being evil, do I? Now go and bring me Nathan Petrelli. Alive. Matt will go with you. To make sure you won´t forget what´s at stake here."

For a moment, Hiro was startled. "You let us go alone?"

„Au contraire. This is Mr. Robert Perkins. Bob will go with you. To assist … and watch you. But I trust that you understood the message our little briefing was supposed to give you. Matt sure as hell did."

Hiro met the gaze of his friend and Matt stepped to his side in silence. Shana´s man joined them.

"We meet you here again in exactly three days from now." she instructed them. "Be in time."

"Why in three days?" Hiro asked baffled.

"Because our time in here´s up. We´re not the only guests of this hotel, Mr. Nakamura. And because we have to make some preparations for when you bring us Nathan. Give us a break, we´re only human after all."

She gave him a smile that could have been sweet if she hadn´t been such an evil character.

"We´ll wait for your return." she said. "Good luck, gentlemen. By finding Nathan. Oh, and by the way." she called them back one last time. "Try not to step on a butterfly while you´re at it."

Hiro only stared into her evil smiling eyes and didn´t say anything.

Right and left of him, Matt and Mr. Perkins lay their hands on his shoulders, ready to go and do what they´d been ordered to do. The last thing Hiro saw before he squeezed his eyes shut, was the confident smile of Shana Stockwell.

**...**

The Stanton Hotel in Washington was a busy place when Hiro and his two fellow time travelers appeared in the small allay across from it. And of course it was. The president of the United States was supposed to hold a speech in there on this day. That fateful day in time, Hiro had hoped to never have to relive again.

This wasn´t good. This wasn´t right. They shouldn´t be here. Whatever this woman Shana expected them to do to … not disturb history with this, it would never work. It just couldn´t. No matter how careful they were, no matter how well they planned it – and they hadn´t even planned anything yet – they would never succeed in not changing something. And even the slightest change would be enough to destroy everything, maybe even to destroy the world. He couldn´t do this, he mustn´t allow it.

"There he is." he heard Shana´s man whisper, he and Matt Parkman peeking around the corner at the front entrance of the hotel.

Hiro followed their gazes and gasped. That was the Cheerleader. Claire Bennet. But the way she´d been almost three years ago. On that day. She was entering the hotel, walking side by side with Nathan Petrelli. Hiro swallowed dryly. This wasn´t good.

"No." Matt Parkman mumbled, responding to Perkins´ observation. "No, I think this is Sylar."

"You think?" Perkins threw him a warning gaze.

"Listen." Matt Parkman faced the man that was part of the group that threatened the life of his family. "I wasn´t there, okay?" he informed him. "I only know what they told me. But the way I remember the stories, this man we just saw should be Sylar. He knocked out the real Nathan Petrelli before Claire got to him. That´s what they told me. Nathan and Peter arrived here later, after they were already here … I think."

Perkins regarded him for a moment, warily, estimating. But in the end he nodded, accepting Matt´s words.

"Okay. So when is he going to kill the senator?" he wanted to know.

"I can tell you _where_." Matt answered without really giving an answer and pointed upwards, at the front of the building. "Up there in a hotel suite." he told him. "When exactly …" but at this he only shrugged. "We´ll have to wait for that. And watch."

"This is wrong." Hiro spoke up for the first time since they got here, causing the two men to turn around to him.

"I know." Matt agreed with him, a regretful look in his eyes.

"No, I mean … it´s wrong being here." Hiro looked from one man to the other, pleading for them to get back to their senses. "What we´re planning to do is wrong." he cried. "It could destroy the whole world."

Perkins only snorted. "Don´t be ridiculous."

"I´m not being ridiculous." Hiro replied fiercely, suddenly not scared but angry. "It´s the truth." he insisted, facing this ignorant man. "If we change what fate wanted to happen, we could destroy everything."

"Listen." Perkins raised a hand to calm him down. "We´re not here to interfere." he assured him. "We´ll let happen what was supposed to happen. Sylar will kill the senator and people will believe he´s dead. We only take the body with us."

"But …" Hiro was confused. "I thought our order is to save him."

"And we will." Perkins assured him. "Don´t worry, we have a plan."

This whole thing had thrown Hiro off balance, his anger from before was gone, replaced by confusion.

"It´s still not right." he repeated and this time Perkins didn´t react so patient anymore. He let out an annoyed sigh, shooting Hiro a warning glance.

"Listen, pal, you start to get on my nerves." he hissed. "Do I need to remind you of what´s at stake here?"

"The world is at stake here." Hiro insisted.

"Because we´re taking the body of a man that is already dead to the world?"

"Yes. The body of Nathan Petrelli was an important part of the events that followed his death. He has a role to play, even in death."

Perkins only laughed and shook his head, making Hiro angry again.

"Without his body … Peter Petrelli will not understand that his brother is dead." he did his best to convince this man about the importance of his words. "And even if … the body is needed to stage the accident we all saw in the news, telling the world that Nathan Petrelli died. Right?"

He looked at Matt, searching help and confirmation from his friend.

"Right." Matt affirmed, not happy about the fact that Hiro tried to get him on his side in this discussion.

"If those things don´t happen …" the time traveler went on. "Anything could happen."

"If they do happen, my family is dead, Hiro." Matt cried, the desperation immanent in his voice and his eyes.

Hiro felt awful, seeing this, but somehow he managed it to hold that gaze.

"I´m sorry, Matt Parkman." he said quietly. "I really am. But I can´t risk the whole world for only two lives. Too many others are at stake here. I´m really sorry."

"Yeah, so am I." was all Matt replied to that, taking one tiny step back.

Hiro didn´t know what to say anymore. He didn´t want this. He wanted Matt´s family to be save too. But there were certain lines that must never be crossed. Sometimes the path of a hero was a painful one.

He wanted to tell Matt, he wanted to let him know how sorry he was, but he didn´t even get the chance to open his mouth. Before he even knew what happened Matt had swung a fist at him and a moment later all the lights went out.

**...**

"Are you crazy?" Perkins cried, grabbing Parkman´s arm. But Parkman didn´t make a move intending to do any more to the unconscious man on the ground. Perkins just couldn´t believe what just happened. "You just knocked out our third man." he cried into Parkman´s face.

"We can do that without him." the man that was supposed to be the hostage, replied. "All we need him for is to bring us back to our time when everything is over."

Perkins let go of his arm, uncertain what to think. This was not the way things had been planned.

"Forget your plan." Parkman said. "Plans don´t work when you face people with abilities. You never know what will happen."

"Obviously." Perkins pointed at the unconscious Hiro.

"We don´t need him." Parkman replied, making Perkins fume with anger.

"You are not in charge here, Parkman." he shouted into his face.

But this time he failed to intimidate the man that had crouched under his shout the first time they´d met. Back then, when his only coherent thought had been the safety of his family. A safety that had suddenly ceased to exist. But as it seemed the one thing that had made him weak back then, was giving him strength now, when he stood his ground against Perkins.

"We are here because of my family." he shouted right back into Perkins face. "That means _I´m_ in charge or no one is, understand? I went through this whole thing over a dozen times, since your boss told me her demands. I know what we have to do."

When he was done with his speech, he took a step back from Perkins, looking him over with disgust.

"Now are you coming or not?"

Perkins swallowed. That was definitely not the way things had been planned to happen. He glanced down on the knocked out man one last time and then nodded. What other choice did he have anyway? There was a mission to accomplish and he´d been sent here to make sure it would be done.


	9. Changing Fate

**Changing Fate**

Passing the metal detectors in the lobby was the easier part of the whole operation. The damn thing went off about the needle in Matt´s pocket but that was something he could fix easily. Just a tiny mental push, and the security guard didn´t hear it anymore. What made him really worried though was the timing. When this was supposed to go down the way it should, they had to be precise. And fast. And even more important, they must not hesitate. Not once.

He remembered the way up to the suite only too well. That was nothing one would forget so easily. Being called here by a mother that desperately wanted her son to be saved, only to find that they´d been too late already. Matt had rarely seen Angela Petrelli as a person that could show emotions, but on that day, when she´d held her dead son in her arms, crying, sobbing into his shoulder, he´d seen her heart. And it was nothing he ever wanted to see again. It was too painful, too horrible to watch.

The doors of the elevator opened, revealing the floor that would lead them to that infamous suite, that once upon a time had cost Nathan Petrelli his life.

They didn´t take the main elevator, the one that started down in the lobby, but the one in the back of the hotel, the one that opened in a pocket between the corridors, just where the two sides of the big building came together. Hidden. Unnoticed. Safety first. They couldn´t risk to run into any of the actual participants of this act that was about to happen up here very soon. At least not yet.

"We´ll have to split up." Matt told Perkins. "I´ll go and find Claire. You take care of Nathan."

But instead of doing what he was told Perkins stopped, grabbing his collar.

"You don´t think I would let you wander off alone, Parkman." he growled, but once again he underestimated the determination of a husband and father.

In an instant Matt had grabbed the hand on his collar and turned the table around, pushing Perkins against the wall, too quickly for the other man to respond.

"I´m not going to run off." he hissed into his face. "I´m trying to save my family with this. So stop mistrusting me and start helping."

With a jerk of his hand he let go of Perkins again, meeting his furious gaze fearlessly. For a moment it looked as if Perkins wanted to jump at his throat, to make him pay for this attack he´d just dared. But a sound interrupted the moment and made them both flinch and turn. Something further down the corridor had crashed very loudly, almost violently and somewhere inside Matt something sunk down to the bottom. Because that sound was unmistakable and the meaning of it striking.

_"Go."_ they heard the voice of a girl, demanding. Claire Bennet´s voice.

The sounds they heard next were even worse than the first, giving them only the slightest idea of what was really happening behind that corner. They started to run. And then a door got thrown shut, muffling the sounds of the fight.

The two men reached the corner, peeking around it, at Claire Bennet who was standing before that door, trying to open it, but the handles just wouldn´t give in to her demands. Through the crack in the doors she, and only she could see what was happening beyond that border she wasn´t meant to cross.

Matt swallowed dryly, almost unable to stay were he was, hidden and unseen, as if he wasn´t here. As if he didn´t know the people who were fighting for their lives over there.

All of a sudden Claire let go of the door and turned around, facing in his direction. Matt´s heart just about stopped. How he managed it to move and hide behind the corner, was beyond him. Had she seen them? Had she heard anything, seen anything? Matt had never been one for religion, but in this moment he closed his eyes and prayed.

The sounds of the fight ceased and a moment later, he could hear Claire opening the doors, at last, to enter the suite. Everything was quiet after that and Matt didn´t quiet dare to peek around the corner again, afraid that Claire might still be looking.

Perkins was braver than he was. Or maybe he just didn´t care as much, Matt didn´t know.

The agent didn´t flinch back into hiding, so Matt assumed that Claire wasn´t there anymore. And he was right. The corridor was empty. Matt could only imagine what the young woman was seeing in that suite. But he knew it was not the dead body of Nathan Petrelli. Not yet. And if things would keep going the way they went down once already, she wouldn´t know about his death before the funeral, three months later.

"That´s it." Matt whispered and beside him Perkins tensed. "It´s happening. Any minute now."

A muffled groan came from inside the suite. Matt recognized the voice at once. Peter.

_"Are you all right?"_ they heard Claire ask._ "Where did they go?"_

_"The window."_ Peter answered out of breath, his voice almost too faint to understand his words.

_"Can you fly after them?"_ Claire asked and a moment later – Peter must have given an answer, too quiet for Matt to hear – she urged him: _"Come on, we have to find them. Come on."_

"Here we go." Matt whispered, getting ready.

When Claire and Peter left the suite and hurried down the corridor, he flattened himself against the wall, until they were gone.

"I´ll be back soon." he told Perkins. "You stay here. Watch what happens. When Sylar´s gone, bring the body to the roof. I´ll meet you there."

A cry emerged from behind them, inside the suite, and then a sound as if a piano just cracked in half. Matt forced himself not to think about it, to not to care.

"What about the others?" Perkins demanded to know. "They´re supposed to see him dead before we leave."

"Don´t worry, they will." Matt pointed at his own head. Once again he had to force himself to focus and ignore the choking sounds from the suite ahead, the sounds of a dying man. He closed his eyes, briefly. "You have twenty minutes before I get here with Angela Petrelli." he told Perkins. "Now hurry."

And with that he was on his way down the hallway, following the way Claire and Peter had taken. He caught up with them halfway down the staircase.

"Claire." he called out for them. "Peter."

The two of them stopped, on a landing, and swirled around to him.

"Matt." Peter cried, surprised, while Matt took the last few steps down to them.

"Good." he breathed. "I thought I lost you."

"Angela was going to look for you." Claire told him. "She said, she had a dream."

"I know." Matt gasped, still catching his breath. "I know, she told me."

"What happened?" Peter wanted to know, worried.

"Nothing. Not yet." Matt assured him and faced the cheerleader. "Claire, I need your help."

"We need to keep going." Peter urged. "Sylar is after the president."

"I know. Don´t worry, it´ll be quick."

"What do you need?" Claire asked, ready to help, even in this moment of hurry.

"I vial of your blood." Matt answered, getting the syringe out of his pocket.

"What? What for?"

"To save your father´s life." Matt answered, freely.

"Oh my god, did Sylar …?"

"No." this time Matt lied, just as freely as he told the truth. "I only want to be prepared for everything. Your grandmother´s dream must not come true and your blood … it can heal everything. So if anything happens to Nathan, I can cure him with that."

Claire only nodded, overwhelmed by the mere idea of Nathan needing her blood to be saved.

"Of course." she breathed and quickly rolled up her sleeve, allowing Matt to extract the blood from her vein. Only that Matt´s hands were shaking. He´d never done anything like this before and even his own mantra from earlier, that he must not hesitate, was worthless now.

In the end it was Peter who saved him from his own weakness, by taking the syringe out of his hands.

"Here." he said, gently. "Let me do it."

When he was done, he handed Matt the syringe, now full of the miraculous blood and Matt nodded at him, gratefully.

"Thanks." he breathed and fixed his eyes on both of them. "You don´t need to remember that I was ever here, understand?" he told them and they both nodded, obediently.

"Understand." Peter said, pulling on Claire´s arm. "Let´s go." he urged her and the two of them kept running down the stairs.

Matt looked after them, only for a second before turning around and heading back up the stairs. He needed to get back to the suite before Angela Petrelli and his younger self would get there.

**...**

It was the weirdest thing ever, a strange out of body feeling deep in his guts, when he watched himself walk down the corridor, along with Angela Petrelli, who still believed that he, Matt, would be able to save her son Nathan from getting killed. When his younger self entered the suite, only one moment before Angela Petrelli could, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"You don´t wanna see that." he told Angela, trying to keep her away, outside of these doors behind which her son had been murdered.

His intentions were good, Matt remembered that. He hadn´t wanted her to see her son lying in his own blood, but her anger had been too fierce. Is too fierce. She was struggling against his younger self´s grip, demanding to be let through, insisting that she needs to see. And Matt let go of her, giving up at last. Just the way he remembered it.

This version of him, the one he was three years ago, had no idea that the body he and Angela Petrelli were looking at, was not really there. That it was merely an illusion, created by his own mind, made up by his three years older self, who was hiding in the back, unseen, watching, hating himself for doing this.

When Angela cried out in despair, loud and forcefully, Matt closed his eyes and wished himself someplace else. Wished that he could show her something better instead. Something that would make her happy instead of destroyed and devastated. But he couldn´t. He mustn´t.

He watched her fall down next to the empty chair and close the eyes of someone that wasn´t even there anymore. Only she didn´t know that. All she saw was her dead son, sitting in this chair before her, his blood all over his chest, where it ran down after leaving his throat. Matt watched her curl her arms around a body that was nothing but thin air, holding her dead son close, as if she could bring him back with that. Her sobs were desperate, confused … and heartbreaking.

"I don´t understand." she breathed. "My dream. You were supposed to save him."

Matt, the older one, the one that was hidden from the face of the world that was currently circling around the sun, heard the words that had been meant for him three years ago, and for a moment his own breath stopped. He´d forgotten about that. How could he forget that?

Her dream. She´d always insisted on it. That he was the one that was supposed to save Nathan, that her dreams, though confusing and gibberish, never lied about what they showed her. And now that he was watching this scene again, a scene that had happened so long ago, Matt suddenly knew that she´d been right. He´d needed three years and a threatened family of his own to do it, but in the end he´d done it. Or he would, very soon.

He´d come back and fulfilled the prophecy of her dream. Only that no one would know about it. Not for the next three years. And to make sure of it, Matt had to finish this, no matter how painful it would be to watch this all over again. He simply had no choice. Just like his younger self had had no choice when he´d planted Nathan´s memories in Sylar´s head. Simple and plain.

And so he stayed, watched, and made sure everybody who entered this suite would see a dead body where there was nothing else but an empty chair. He stayed and watched until Sylar, the murderer had been erased from his own mind – his evil soul unknowingly transferred into the back of Matt´s mind, until he would rise again, nearly driving his host insane – and a new, a false Nathan Petrelli had woken up under the watchful eyes of his mother and the only two people in the world, who knew who he really was, underneath.

When the four of them finally left the suite, locking the doors so no one would find the dead body of Nathan Petrelli inside, Matt turned his back to the scene and finally, finally left it behind. He´d done everything he could. Now history would have to find its own way to deal with the fact that there was no body in that suite anymore. He could only do so much. Everything else was now in the hands of fate.

**...**

Hiro knew he should feel better, that he should feel relieved, maybe even happy. They were in the process of resurrecting Nathan Petrelli after all. And the way things had turned out, it actually seemed that Matt and this man Perkins that was just injecting the cheerleader´s blood into Nathan´s veins, it seemed as if they´d truly done everything right. As right as something so wrong as changing history could be.

Hiro sighed and shook his head, while Nathan Petrelli´s wound started to heal. It was still not right. It still felt wrong. He still couldn´t believe that what they´d done here today could lead to anything good. Man was not supposed to play god.

Something bad had happened here today, unseen by the world – yet – unnoticed by anyone and completely out of time, hidden in a pocket of the universe. Something they couldn´t quiet estimate – yet – and no matter what, they wouldn´t be able to undo it. Ever. Time and space, this was a construct so fragile that even the tiniest change in it´s balance could rip it apart and destroy it´s set path forever.

And this was exactly what they´d done here today. Hiro had no idea what the damage would be but it would be irreparable.

"Hiro." Matt Parkman addressed him, looking at him apologetic. "I´m sorry." he said.

Hiro only looked at him. He knew he was sorry. But that didn´t change a thing.

"What we did was wrong." he spoke, quietly but profoundly, convinced about the truth in his words.

"Just shut up, Pikatchu." Perkins demanded.

Hiro ignored him, still facing Matt, the man he´d considered his friend. A hero, just like him.

"We just drastically altered time, Matt Parkman." he stated the facts in a calm disappointed tone. "A hero doesn´t do things like that. A hero would never put his own interests over the world."

"My own interests?" Matt shot back. "It´s my family we´re talking about here. My wife and my little boy."

Hiro only looked into this furious face of his old friend and didn´t say anything. There was nothing he could say.

"Don´t worry." Matt went on, grimly. "We thought of everything we could. Angela and my past self saw the dead Nathan and Sylar became Nathan, just the way it was supposed to happen." he told him. "Nothing has changed."

Hiro only shook his head, knowing that this wasn´t true.

"I´m sorry if you disagree." Matt replied.

"You will see that I´m right, as soon as we go back." Hiro foretold him sadly, but Matt only shook his head.

"No, _you_ will see." he promised. "As soon as we´re back, everything will be all right."

"You took a very important piece out of the puzzle. The universe is not in order anymore."

"I did everything I could to keep this so famous order intact, okay?" Matt shouted at him. "What do you want? I just saved a life."

As if to underline his statement, Nathan Petrelli took a rasping breath, waking up from the dead and began to cough, dryly. Perkins stood up and stepped back from him. After the coughing fit was over Nathan turned his head around, facing the three people that stood around him.

"Parkman?" he asked, disoriented and confused. "What happened?"

"It´s all right, Nathan." Matt spoke, fixing his eyes on him. "Just stay calm. We´ll explain everything later."

The recently resurrected man on the ground, frowned deeply and lowered his head, as if to think something through, something that was very important to him. Matt turned back around to Hiro.

"After all this is over, the body will vanish in a store for the next few weeks." he told him, still trying to convince him that everything was fine. "For everything that happens after that …" he shook his head. "Time will have to show. I can only do so much."

Hiro never looked away from him, a sad smile gracing his lips. "And now you can´t do anything anymore."

How much truth really was in his words, Hiro still had to learn himself yet.

**...**

They arrived at the exact same room, where they´d left Shana Stockwell and her men behind, exactly three days after they´d left her there. Just the way she´d demanded it. The first thing Hiro noticed when they arrived, was that the room had been changed. The tables were arranged in a semicircle now, but the men who were sitting around it, didn´t look like Shana´s men.

Shana´s men had been wearing jeans and jackets, these men were wearing suits and ties. And the only blonde woman Hiro could make out in the room was not Shana Stockwell. It was Juliet O´Hara, the detective from Santa Barbara. How …?

The moment when the four of them appeared, her head swirled around to them and her eyes went big. In an instant she´d reached for her gun, her other hand shooting up to her face.

"Security breach!" she shouted into her sleeve and next to her, Carlton Lassiter pulled his gun.

"Freeze!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Get the president out of the way! Move! Get them! Take them down!"

All along the table, the men jumped out of their seats and retrieved to the other side of the room. Hiro recognized Mohinder Suresh in one of them and he was pretty sure he was recognized in return. Still the geneticist was fleeing from them along with the others, making the way free for the secret service agents that moved in on them, guns drawn and ready to fire. Everything after that, happened in a haze.

Hiro got grabbed from behind and within only a few seconds, he and his four companions were surrounded. Perkins tried to fight and got knocked down. Matt Parkman struggled too but mostly to avoid ending up like Perkins. Nathan Petrelli stood between all this like a sleepwalker, his gaze still overclouded with the mental order Matt had given him, to wait for further instructions.

But the thing that really caught Hiro´s attention, was the man Juliet O´Hara had dragged away from all of this, behind her back, where he would be save. It was Nathan Petrelli who stood there, staring at the four intruders with surprise and disbelieve.

"They´re Specials." Juliet shouted now. "Don´t take any risks. Sedate them. Now."

Hiro felt a stitch in his neck and a moment later the world around him began to swim. It was the image of Nathan Petrelli, who had his hand on Juliet O´Hara´s shoulder, both of them watching him fall, that stayed with him when he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

**I know I don´t have to tell you guys that, but you can leave a review. I always like to hear your thoughts about what happened.**


	10. Butterfly Effect

**Butterfly Effect**

The hallway before the conference room was crowded with secret service. A total lockdown had been ordered. The four unconscious intruders got carried out on stretchers, soon to be transferred to the state facility nearby, highest possible security. Two of them were known fugitives after all.

Despite Juliet´s try to get him someplace save, the president had refused to be removed from the scene. Still she wouldn´t allow him to get anywhere near that room anymore and when the stretchers got carried by, she efficiently blocked his way, so he wouldn´t get closer to them than absolutely necessary.

"It´s for your own safety, Mr. President." she insisted and when he gave her a look, she added adamantly: "That´s what you´re paying me for."

Before he could give a response, Lassiter came marching back to them, Burton Guster following right behind.

"Carlton." the president dismissed the stubborn woman before him and turned to the secret service agent. "What the heck is going on here?" he demanded to know. "Please, tell me I had a defective vision earlier. This man you just carried out here … He looked just like me."

"He did, Mr. President." Lassiter confirmed, a deep frown on his forehead. "So far we have no idea who he is."

"Maybe it´s Sylar." Mohinder Suresh suggested tentatively. "He´s a shapeshifter after all."

"If it is him, we´ll find out." Juliet promised. "I´ll interrogate him myself."

"No, Jules." the president objected at once. „If that is really Sylar, I don´t want you to be in the same room with him. He´s too dangerous."

Juliet only gave him a blank face. "I can watch out for myself." she told him.

He smiled. His hands went up to her shoulders and caressed them gently. "I know." he said, placing a kiss on her mouth. "That´s why you married me."

Juliet held his gaze sternly. Only someone who knew both of them very well would be able to see the affection that was hidden in her professional gaze. Nathan sure as hell saw it.

"Carlton can question the … impersonator." he decided.

"Yes, sir." Lassiter immediately shouted, eager to execute this order of his president. "What about the others?" he asked. "Any orders?"

Nathan looked at him musing for a moment. "Did you restrain them?" he then asked.

"We did." Gus answered promptly, his gaze as professional as Juliet´s.

"Restrained?" Mohinder repeated. "You mean you drugged them."

"Nakamura is a teleporter." Gus replied defensively. "We need to make sure he will not escape."

"Still." the president raised a hand. "We don´t want to harm him or any of the others more than necessary." he stated.

Gus looked at him. "Of course not." he replied and the president nodded.

"I´m sure Matt has a good reason for being with these people." the geneticist turned to face the president again. "So must Hiro."

"We´ll ask them." Nathan nodded. "Carlton. You take care of the impersonator."

Lassiter gave a quick nod and left without another word.

"Jules."

"On it, Mr. President." she replied and was gone, her steps even more determined than Lassiter´s.

Her husband was looking after her, his head askew. The president of the united states glanced over to Mohinder Suresh.

"Will I ever get her to stop doing this?" he asked.

The geneticist chuckled. "I´m afraid not, Mr. President." he said and made the other man stare at him with an open mouth.

"Now you start with that, too?" he cried and started to walk, Mohinder following right at his side. "God, what have I done wrong?" he wondered out loud, sure his question would be positively identified as rhetorical. The doctor seemed inclined to answer it anyway.

"I´d say becoming the leader of the free world and mankind´s best good hope was the mistake." he suggested and gave a shrug. "But I could be wrong."

Nathan threw him a glance. "Don´t flatter me, Mohinder." he growled. "You know how this ends."

"With a week of unbearable selfconfidence." the scientist nodded. "You´re right. Forget what I said."

"Careful, doctor." Nathan raised a warning finger at him, his face serious as it could be. "I´m still the president." he reminded him and then turned around without transition. "By the way. Gus, where´s Shawn?" he asked the younger man. "I want him here to do the interrogations."

"He´s in hospital with Abigail." Gus informed him and made the president stop dead in his tracks.

"I thought she has two months left." Nathan cried irritated, a little worried.

Gus rolled his eyes. "She has." he affirmed. "And she´s perfectly healthy. I´ve told him perhaps a dozen times."

"He´s just nervous." Mohinder defended the overprotective behavior of the absent man. "It´s the first time for him to be a father."

Nathan nodded. "Who could blame him?" he agreed. "Still, give him a call, Guster. Tell him I need him here."

"Yes, sir." Gus answered and turned around on his heel.

Mohinder threw Nathan an asking glance. "What are we doing now?" he wanted to know, earning a dead serious glare from the other man.

"I want to have a talk with Hiro Nakamura." the president of the united states decided.

**...**

When his cell phone had started ringing, Shawn was too busy to answer it right away. He was in the process of convincing his wife to let the doctors run just one more test and that the body of a pregnant woman could deceive when it told you it was feeling fine.

Of course Abby didn´t agree and that´s what made it such a hard piece of work. At days like this he wished his gift was more than a once in a while subconscious thing that his brain liked to spit out when it felt like it. Like a lightswitch that only operated on its own terms and not when light was needed. Or wanted. He wished he had more control over it, that he could use it, now for example, to convince Abby that he was right. Because he knew he was right. She was only too stubborn to see that.

When he finally answered the phone, he practically shouted at Gus.

"Yeah."

"Dammit, Shawn, what are you doing?" his friend asked. "I´ve been ringing for over five minutes."

"I´m in the hospital, dude. Cell phones are not allowed in here."

"As if you would care. Abby´s not dying, Shawn, she´s giving birth. So stop worrying about her and get the hell back to work."

And those had been the words that had tipped the scales for Shawn. Not because of Gus´ demand but because of the words he´d just used. Something in Shawn´s mind made click at this and he barely heard the rest of what Gus had to say.

" … wants you to come here ASAP." was the last thing he registered consciously and then a brief pause. "Shawn? Did you even hear what I said?"

"Sure." he claimed, knowing that Gus didn´t believe a single word. "Don´t worry, I´m on my way." he promised and hung up before Gus could yell at him again. But not just to avoid that. He needed to check his messages. Right now.

**...**

Shawn closed the door of his company car and critically eyed the building across the parking lot. NSA headquarters. He knew that building from the inside out, for over two years now. Ever since Suresh´s test had revealed that he was no psychic, ever since his services for the S.B.P.D. had stopped being a charade. Ever since he´d stopped being a fraud … and life had stopped being fun.

Sometimes Shawn still stopped and allowed himself to miss the old times. The time when he and his buddy had pretended to be psychic detectives, private investigators that were not bound to the book of rules, Lassie and Jules had to follow. A time where they´d been free to do practically whatever they thought was best to solve the case.

But those times were long gone and there was no sense in wishing them back. What they did now was an important job and they did a good job of it. Their task force had taken down more dangerous specials than the CIA or the FBI and alone the number of lives they´d saved with that – the whole world on one tragic occasion – was enough to accept a small lack of fun in their lives.

Shawn sighed, determined, and started to walk.

"So what´s the status." he asked the desk sergeant when he entered the building, but she didn´t even get a chance to open her mouth. His name was already shouted through the whole bullpen.

"Spencer!"

"Lassie!" Shawn greeted back with a smile. "So. You caught Hiro the teleporter, huh?"

Lassiter frowned. "How do you know that already?"

Shawn raised a hand to his temple in a gesture that was long history and smiled. A moment later he dropped it again. "What do you wanna hear?" he asked.

Lassiter gave him a face and turned around without a word, to lead the way. "You haven´t done that for quiet a while now." he mentioned.

"Yep. Thought it was time for a refreshment."

"I figure it was Guster who called you."

"You figure right. So what´s the status quo?"

"We have a time traveler, a mindreader …" Lassiter listed the captives when he noticed a sudden stop in Shawn´s steps. "What´s the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing." the former fake psychic claimed and picked up his pace again. "What else do we have?"

"Spencer what the hell …?"

"I can´t tell you that." Shawn talked over him. "Not yet. So just … tell me what else we have."

Lassiter grumbled but returned to his list. "One guy that doesn´t seem to have any form of special ability and an impersonator of the president. Possible shapeshifter."

"Possible Sylar."

"Correct. The president wants you to lead the interrogation but to be honest Spencer …"

"Don´t say it." Shawn interrupted him. "You can have him."

Lassiter stopped, blinking at him, irritated. "I can?"

"Yes. I´ll join you later but first …"

"Spencer, we´ve been after that son of a bitch for years. If that is really him …" at this point he interrupted himself. "You don´t think it´s Sylar, do you?"

"I didn´t say that. I´m in fact convinced … that Sylar is in this building. That we´re indeed so close to finally get him. I´m just not sure how." Lassiter made a face as if his irritation was causing him physical pain. "Spencer, you´re once again not making any sense at all."

Shawn only smiled and padded Lassiter´s shoulder. "Then you should know what to do with it." he said and gave the head of secret service a nod.

"It _is_ Sylar." Lassiter told him. "I know it. He had blood all over his shirt but not one scratch on him. The clothing is in the evidence room, have a look at it if you like. We know that Sylar can heal his wounds so tell me how it cannot be him."

Shawn didn´t tell him that. He only nodded, accepting the words of his fellow agent. "I´ll join you later." he said at last. "Promise. And if it´s really him, I´ll make him tell us. But first I want to have a look at our time traveler."

"And what the hell is that supposed to prove?" Lassiter cried after him, arms spread in exasperation.

Shawn stopped for a second, turning back around to him. "I´m not sure yet. But I tell you when I know." With that he turned around and hurried down the corridors, heading for the holding cells.

**...**

As it turned out he didn´t find Nakamura in his cell anymore. Instead he learned that the president himself had ordered to bring him into interrogation room D. Weird enough already. But after that text message … he wasn´t sure about anything anymore. When he reached the viewing room, he found the president and Mohinder Suresh there, watching Juliet through the two way mirror, questioning the Japanese man.

"Shawn." the president greeted him with a smile. "Glad you could join us."

Shawn nodded at the two men and stepped in.

"How´s Abigail?"

"She´s doing good." Shawn answered and on the spur of the moment, he added: "She´s not dying after all but giving birth."

The two men laughed and nodded. Shawn only smiled back, warily. He didn´t know why he´d expected them to react in any other way to these words. It had been a try.

So this was obviously not where he was supposed to look. Back to the prisoner then.

Jules was currently leaning over the table, facing Nakamura intently.

"There are at least a dozen guys with guns out there, Mr. Nakamura." she told him. "Did you really think you and your friends could get anywhere near the president without being stopped? We have precautions for people like you, you of all people should know that."

Hiro glanced at the IV standing next to him. "I noticed that." he said with a tiny smile. "But detective O´Hara …"

"That´s agent Petrelli for you." Juliet interrupted him and Shawn noticed the surprised reaction of the prisoner. The time traveler.

"Neither of us was trying to attack the … president." Hiro now told her.

"You didn´t." Juliet repeated, not believing a single word. "Then what were you doing in that room, right in the moment when he was holding his conference with the local authorities?" she demanded to know. "The only time when he´s doing this in a place like this, the perfect opportunity for an assassin to attack. Did you really think, we wouldn´t expect something like that?"

"It was a mistake."

"You´re damn right, it was a mistake." Juliet shot. "What did you plan? To exchange him with a double? Is it Sylar we´re holding in the other cell? Or did you find some other shapeshifter to do that job for you? Whoever it is, Shawn will make him tell us his name, as soon as he gets here, we´ll know everything you´re trying to hide."

But Hiro only shook his head and lowered his gaze, a sad expression in his eyes. "This is not right." he mumbled. "I knew this would happen." he looked up at Juliet with pleading eyes. "Please." he begged. "You must let me go. Maybe I can go back and …"

"Let you go?" Juliet snapped and let out a laugh. "You must be absolutely crazy if you think we´d let you go just like this."

"I´m not an assassin." Hiro assured her. "I´m not your enemy."

Shawn had enough. He turned to the president. It was time to make his move.

"Mr. President, may I have a try with him?"

Nathan Petrelli only nodded, only too eager to let his best man do what he could do best. Shawn mirrored the nod and went into the room, stopping Jules in the middle of a shouting fit. He gave her a reassuring nod, asking her without words to take a break and let him take over.

It needed a deep breath and another deadly glare at the prisoner for her to do so. Shawn lay a hand on her shoulder, only for a moment, when she passed him on her way out. Trust me, this gesture said. We´re going to figure this out.

"Mr. Nakamura." he addressed the man in the chair as soon as they were alone. "Can I call you Hiro?"

Hiro nodded.

"You´ve been on the run from us for quiet a while now." Shawn summarized. "No wonder. Someone who can jump from place to place, half around the world with a thought … Why did you come back now? We caught you far too easy. No offense, Jules." he added, facing the two way mirror for a second and he could almost visualize her smirk at this comment. "So why?" he asked Hiro again.

"I didn´t come here to kill your president." the young man told him.

Shawn regarded him for a moment, nodding. "I believe you." he said and he could imagine the reactions of his friends outside, very well. Especially Jules. But it didn´t change anything.

"I do believe that you didn´t come to kill the president." Shawn repeated. "But that means you came here for another reason. I´m here for a reason too. So maybe we can help each other, what do you think?"

"I could help." Hiro agreed. "If you let me go."

"Not quiet yet." Shawn replied. "First I have a few questions. First … Does the letter combination IMU mean anything to you?"

Hiro stared at him with big confused eyes and Shawn was sure that he was not the only one who didn´t understand where he wanted to go with that.

"No?" Hiro answered at last.

Shawn nodded. "Strange." he found. "I thought you´d know it."

"Why should I?"

"Because …" Shawn walked over to the two way mirror and nonchalantly switched off the intercom, giving the people behind it a face that said: trust me, I know what I´m doing. That would earn him at least a few minutes alone with Nakamura. He turned back to the prisoner, who looked frightened and uncertain.

"You know that my wife is pregnant?" Shawn asked and Hiro shook his head. No, he didn´t know.

"She´s not dying, just giving birth, you know." Shawn went on. "Doesn´t ring a bell?" he asked but Hiro´s face stayed as blank as before.

"I don´t understand." he said and Shawn lost his patience.

"I got a text message." he told him and got his cell phone out to show him. "Abby´s not dying, she´s giving birth." he read it for Hiro. "Those are the exact same words Gus used when he called me to come here. Half an hour ago."

Hiro looked up to him, still confused. "And?"

"I got this message three years ago. Signed by someone that only calls himself IMU. So how could this Mr. IMU know what Gus would say to me today? Except …" he only gave Hiro a look.

"I didn´t send those messages." Hiro claimed.

"You´re a time traveler, Hiro."

"But … it wasn´t me."

"The message is not done with the quote." Shawn went on, losing his patience more and more. „It demands from me that I should check out another message I got, message number 17. And what do you think this message said?"

"I don´t know."

"It told me to come here. Right now. That I would find Sylar here. Instead I find you here." He took the second chair and sat down across from Hiro. "Tell me how that fits." he demanded, putting more than just emphasis into his words. He needed an answer and Hiro would give him one. Now.

Hiro blinked, under the influence. "But … you found Sylar here." he stated matter of factly.

For a moment Shawn was not sure what to think. But then he jumped up, grabbing for the taser-gun on his belt.

"No, no!" Hiro cried, raising both hands. "It´s not me. I meant … I am not Sylar. I am Hiro Nakamura."

"Well, since Lassie and Jules said you appeared from out of nowhere, I believe you might be telling the truth. But on the other hand … you could have killed Hiro and taken on his form … and his powers."

Again Shawn faced the other man intently, demanding the truth in what he would tell him next.

"I didn´t." Hiro claimed. "I mean, he didn´t. I am Hiro. But I know where Sylar is."

Shawn narrowed his eyes. So that was the moment. "Where?" he asked.

Hiro glanced over at the two way mirror and leaned forward, telling him in a whisper: "He´s in the other room, watching us."

Shawn threw an uncertain glance at the mirror.

"It´s the man you know as the president." Hiro revealed at last and made Shawn frown down on him. In the end he snorted.

"That´s kinda desperate, don´t you think?"

"It´s the truth." Hiro insisted. "Please, you must tell me what happened since that day in the Stanton Hotel in Washington."

Now Shawn was totally lost in translation. "Come again?"

"Something went wrong." Hiro told him. "We went to the past, Matt Parkman and I. We were forced to do that. To change the past. I tried to stop them but I was too slow. When we came back everything was different. This is not the way things should be. Something went wrong and I need to fix it."

Shawn halted, deeply worried. Now it was already the second time this happened to him over the course of only one hour. Hiro was telling the truth, there was no doubt. Because he´d demanded from him to tell the truth. And there was no reason for him to believe this time traveler would have a second ability, that would help him withstand the demand.

"Fix it, huh?" he repeated.

"Where´s Noah Bennet?" Hiro demanded to know. "Ask him and he´ll tell you …"

"Noah Bennet?" Shawn talked right over him. "Who´s that?"

This time it was Hiro, who frowned, worried.

"Um …"

"Noah Bennet died three years ago." the voice of president Petrelli spoke up behind Shawn. "Along with my brother and my daughter."

Shawn turned around, facing the president in the door, Mohinder Suresh and Jules right behind him.

"The Cheerleader …" Hiro Nakamura mumbled in shock. "And Peter Petrelli … are dead?"

Shawn turned back to him and saw honest shock in this man´s face. "Sylar killed them both." he told him. "What makes it hard for me to believe … what you just told me."

"Did you get anything from him?" the president demanded a report.

"Not quiet sure, Mr. President." Shawn answered promptly, never taking his eyes off the prisoner.

"He is … hard to crack. Guess I´m missing the right questions." He hesitated, briefly. "Would you excuse me for a second?" he asked at last, leaving the room without waiting for an answer.

Two years of working so close to this man, had earned him the right to act like that, even if it was the president he was treating that way. A privilege very few people had. Outside in the corridor, he took out his cell phone once again, quickly checking his messages.

"Shawn, what the hell are you doing?" Juliet spoke up behind him. Her gaze was unmistakable, she demanded an explanation, but Shawn had no time to deal with her now. He simply shushed her, waving an impatient hand at her until he´d found what he´d been looking for.

"I´ll be damned." he breathed.

"What?" she asked, her eyes worried. Worried about her husband´s safety.

Shawn only held up his cell for her, even though he knew it wouldn´t tell her anything. "Fix it." he read the message for her and shook his head, already searching for message number 8, the one he was supposed to look up, according to this former. This one was longer than usual … but not half as confusing as the others. Not anymore.

It read: "If I could go back to where this all started then maybe I can save her … One, two, three, four … but you better promise me I´ll be back in time"

"I´ll be damned." he mumbled again.

Next to him Jules made a sound of exasperation but before she could demand an explanation from him, the door to the interrogation room was opened and Mohinder Suresh stepped out, closing the door behind him.

"What …?" Shawn exclaimed. "Suresh, what are you doing here?"

"The president asked me to leave." the geneticist answered. "He wanted to talk to the prisoner alone."

Shawn didn´t know why he felt the urge to move all the sudden but he was back inside that room within seconds. The president was standing before a very tensed Hiro Nakamura when he burst through the door, both of them swirling around to him, and Shawn noticed two things at once. First: the president seemed very annoyed about this disturbance and second: Hiro Nakamura didn´t. Quiet the contrary. He seemed relieved. Very relieved.

"Mr. President. I´m sorry to interrupt you but I need to tell you something." Shawn cried.

"What is it, Spencer?" Nathan Petrelli asked. "I´m busy as you can see."

"I know but this is important." Shawn insisted. "Jules, would you leave us alone, please?"

Of course she wasn´t the only one who reacted unsure about this request, but after a glance at Nathan who told her with a nod that it was okay, she left. Suresh was in the process of following her, but Shawn called him back.

"Not you." he said. "I´ll need you for this."

He went to the door and locked it, nodding at the two men, telling them to just trust him, that they would understand what he had in mind soon. Two years of faithful service for president Nathan Petrelli made the two men stand back, accepting his unspoken word.

"Mr. Nakamura." Shawn addressed the prisoner again, starting to walk around the room. "You said that you … want to fix it. Is that correct?"

"Yes." Hiro answered and Shawn nodded, still pacing the room.

"I´m inclined to agree with you." he said.

Of course Nathan and Mohinder were turning around to him, startled.

"What does that mean, Spencer?" the president demanded to know. "What are you talking about?"

"Mr. President." Shawn addressed him. "I apologize in advance for every physical accident my next action might cause."

"What …?" but more he didn´t get to say. Shawn´s taser was on his neck, shooting electrical charges into him, until the president of the United States broke down to the ground. Next to him a second taser did the same thing to Suresh.

"Nathan!" Juliet´s voice came from behind the mirror. Muffled but loud enough for Shawn to understand her words, her curses and threats of what would happen if he wouldn´t open the door immediately. But of course he couldn´t do that. He wanted to keep living.

Shawn threw the two tasers down, not in any need for them anymore. "Always have a second one in case you might need it." he quoted the lesson from his dad and hurried over to the prisoner.

"What are you doing?" Hiro cried over the sounds of Juliet´s attempt to break the door.

"Right now …" Shawn quickly removed the IV from Hiro´s hand. "Ruining my career. That´s why I hope you have some good reasons for wanting to `Fix It´."

"I do." Hiro assured him. "Thank you." He stood up and was about to squeeze his eyes shut, obviously planning to vanish the next second. But Shawn grabbed his arm, holding him back.

"What …?" Hiro stared at him with confusion.

"I´m coming with you." Shawn told him matter of factly, reaching down to grab both Nathan´s and Mohinder´s wrists with one hand. "And so do these two."

"What … ?"

"I don´t know." Shawn snapped. "All I know is that this is supposed to be like that and that Jules will be really pissed as soon as she breaks that door open. So you better get us the hell out of here."

He could see Hiro hesitating but hesitating was something they couldn´t afford right now. The wood of the door was already cracking under Jules´ furious kicks. She would be in here any second.

"You´re not going anywhere alone, dude." Shawn told Hiro, not allowing any kind of argument. "So you better hurry."

The door cracked, exploding inwards at last and Hiro shut his eyes.


	11. Back in Time

**Back in Time**

Shawn jumped up to his feet the instant they appeared again in a place he didn´t know. But he was sure it was not the interrogation room any longer. Interrogation rooms of NSA headquarters were by far not that dirty and dark and there were no trashcans standing around in them either. So Shawn assumed that they were in an allay of some sort. Somewhere in a city that could be L.A. but didn´t have to be. Hell, considering who´d brought them here, he couldn´t even be sure about the time they were in.

"All right, dude." he breathed, glad that he didn´t have to explain to Jules or Lassie why the President of the United States was lying in the dirt of a dark allay somewhere. "I have no taser gun on me anymore." he stated matter of factly, pointing at Nathan and Suresh. "What means when these two wake up, they wake up and then they´ll demand an explanation. So you better start talking. Why am I here?"

Hiro looked at him and sighed … and started talking.

Shawn listened to him, partly with interest but most of the time with a great deal of disbelieve. A disbelieve he earned mostly from years and years of Gus´ skepticism. And of course the fact that this man that he´d just helped escaping was a known criminal, a fugitive, an identified Special that had managed it to avoid captivity for many years.

But the messages on his cell phone had told him to come here and there was no denying about the fact that he´d actually listened to this kind of insanity.

When Hiro was done talking Shawn nodded, thoughtfully, considering his next step.

"That´s an interesting story you tell me here." he admitted. "It only has one problem. You tell me that the life I lived, for these last few years, the world that I know, is not supposed to exist."

"No, no." Hiro cried. "Not _exist_. It does exist. Just … different."

"And what is the big difference?" Shawn demanded to know. "The one that makes your version of it so much better than mine? Because I need a damn good reason to put everything I know and everyone I love at jeopardy."

"I think you know that yourself." was the very calm and surprisingly convincing response he got. "You weren´t here if you wouldn´t have a reason."

"Okay." Shawn snapped. "You know what? This reason, that you´re talking about is this …" he held out his cell phone, as if it were a shield against this whole insanity. "A simple. Text message. An anonymous message that, as far as I know it, could easily be a prank."

"And still you´re here." was all Hiro said, baffling him into a silence that almost lasted an eternity.

"I have a wife." he stated at last. "Okay? She expects a child. What am I supposed to tell her? Hi, Abs. Sorry, but I had to rip apart the whole universe, because someone sent me a message."

Hiro´s eyes jumped down to the cell phone again and all the sudden he gasped, grabbing Shawn´s hand, to see it better.

"Not someone." he cried. "You."

"What?"

"You." Hiro repeated. "This message is from you. IMU. Don´t you see? That´s what Doc Brown did when he sent Marty a letter to the future, so he would know what to do. He signed with his initials."

Shawn shook his head, confused. "But my initials are SS." he said and halted when he heard his own words. "Wow. That has a strange uncomfortable sound to it." he found. "Historically speaking."

"IMU." Hiro read it for him. "I am you."

Shawn needed another moment and Hiro who held the cell phone before his eyes, showing him the message again. And then he suddenly understood what this little man was talking about.

"_Who are you?" _he´d texted on that day when he´d gotten the first message. And the answer had been simple and plain.

"_IMU" _with a winking smiley.

"Goddammit." he exclaimed, suddenly standing on rubber legs.

"See?" Hiro cried with an excited smile. "So will you listen to yourself, Shawn Spencer?"

Shawn´s mind was racing, he couldn´t even think of an answer to this question. Not quiet yet.

"Wait a second." he demanded and started to skim through the messages again. All the messages from IMU he´d gotten over the course of those strange few weeks, three years back. At a particular one he stopped. _"Chris Walken says: A fallen Angel can´t be killed by shooting his heart. You have to stab him in the back of his head."_

"Shit."

"What?" Hiro stared at him, his eyes worried.

"The reference is all wrong." Shawn mumbled, ignoring Hiro. But on the other hand … was it?

He glanced at the two unconscious men on the ground, his hand subconsciously hovering at the level of his temple. He was trying to think, trying to decide what to do. If he was wrong, if there was only the slightest chance that Hiro was lying about Nathan being not Nathan … how was he supposed to know? But on the other hand … hadn´t this message already told him how?

On the ground the two men stirred. It didn´t take long for them to come back around and to realize that they were not at NSA anymore.

"Spencer." the President addressed him, standing up, helping Suresh to his feet.

He glared at Shawn, angrily. But that gaze was still offering the option for forgiveness. He was still ready to let Shawn explain himself, to somehow get away with what he´d done, just like always. He was still ready to forget. Something that would change very soon, Shawn knew that.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Nathan demanded to know. "Where are we?"

"It´s not where are we." Shawn replied. "It´s when."

"What?" but Nathan´s gaze jumped to Hiro, before the time traveler could even think of anything to say.

"I brought us to the past." he affirmed the guess, with a nod. "To fix the damage that has been done."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Nathan spat.

"We can´t be in the past." Suresh exclaimed, extremely worried about this possibility. "Hiro. You know that. Meddling around with fate. If we change only one thing, the consequences for our own reality …"

"But that´s exactly the reason." Hiro talked over him. "Those consequences you´re talking about, they´ve already happened."

The expression of the man Shawn had known as the President for two years, was hard and threatening.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he growled. "Shawn, I can´t believe you´re actually helping this man. He´s a fugitive. One of the people, I´ve hired you to hunt."

Shawn´s lack of response made him stop, unsure of what to say or to do. This was something Shawn had never expected to see. The President of the United States, Nathan, who looked him in the eyes and didn´t know what he, Shawn, would do. But who could blame him? He hadn´t known himself that he would do this, until the moment he raised his gun.

„I´m sorry, Mr. President." he said. „But I need proof."

And with that he pulled the trigger, shooting a bullet straight through the heart of the man he´d been working for for two years. He did it fast, so Nathan wouldn´t see it coming. And because he mustn´t allow himself to change his mind again.

Nathan flinched at the impact, an expression of utter disbelieve in his eyes and Shawn almost couldn´t believe that he´d really done it. But he had. The blood on Nathan´s shirt and the terrified cry of the scientist next to him, was proof of it.

"What did you do?" Suresh cried, crouching next to the wounded man on the ground. The dying man on the ground.

Only that Nathan wasn´t dying. Maybe for a moment he was, but that moment passed. Because he wasn´t Nathan. Because Nathan couldn´t survive a shot through the heart and heal that wound within seconds, the bullet dropping out of his back, clattering to the ground. Only Sylar could do that. And now the doctor knew it.

"My god." he exclaimed, meeting the gaze of his President, knowing, regretting. Regretting that this had happened, that he´d found out.

"There are a lot of lives at stake here." Hiro Nakamura spoke. "Three years ago the real Nathan Petrelli died. Sylar killed him … and took over his place."

Mohinder immediately jumped up and skipped back, away from that man on the ground, a man he´d thought he knew.

"Because of that." Hiro kept talking. "Many people died who were not supposed to die. The people that died in Central Park … Peter Petrelli, Claire, the cheerleader, Noah Bennet. And many many others. In the world I come from, Sylar is not a villain anymore. He helped to save the people in Central Park. And he would help us now to make things right again."

The man on the ground that was not the President of the United States, stood up. There was no wound in his chest anymore, where Shawn´s bullet had hit him, and his eyes seemed to see only one thing in this world. Hiro.

"I don´t know what world you´re talking about." he said. "But this is not my version of it."

Shawn raised his gun again, to keep Sylar in line, before he could attack Hiro. But this time it was Suresh who acted before anyone knew what happened. He hauled himself at the man that wasn´t Nathan Petrelli, although he´d claimed to be so many years, and threw him to the ground, punching him in the face.

"Liar." he cried and punched him again. „Murderer." Another punch. "Show me your real face." Punch. "Show yourself."

Shawn moved without thinking and tried to grab Suresh´s arm. "Hey. Stop that you …"

Suresh just pushed him back and Shawn´s back collided heavily with the wall of the building.

"He deserves to die." the geneticist shouted, holding the collar of the man beneath him. "If he´s really Sylar."

The man that had been Nathan Petrelli to him these last three years, looked up at him, not speaking a single word. And then his face started to shift, to morph back into what was beneath the surface. Into his real self.

The shock about seeing the man he´d considered his friend for three years, morph into the man who´d killed his father, only lasted a few seconds. But those few seconds were enough for Sylar to reach out and block Mohinder´s next punch, shoving him back and into the wall, right where Shawn had landed, only a minute ago.

At the end of the allay Shawn and Hiro just rounded the corner, running away from them, to safety. Sylar didn´t bother with them. Mohinder was demanding his whole attention. A little more telekinetic pressure stopped the fuming man´s struggle.

"You were always far too passionate, doctor." Sylar told him. "Kinda annoying at times."

"Murderer." the doctor spat but the only reaction he caused was an exasperated groan.

"Now here we go again." Sylar looked at him with flashing eyes. "You can stop right there because I know what you want to say." he spat. "That I´m a monster that killed innocent people for his own personal gain, but you … helped me to find a lot of these so called innocents, to put them behind bars … or kill them. So look at yourself in the mirror before you judge me."

"I helped to stop the dangerous ones." Mohinder hissed, still struggling, still glaring with hate and disgust. "People like you."

"Like Samuel Sullivan?" Sylar held against it. "Like Frank Wieland?" His eyes softened a little. "We saved the world together." he recalled. "Maybe you should think of that too, Mohinder. I gave you a purpose these last few years."

"To find people for you that you can kill?" the geneticist shouted. "How many of the so called collaterals died from your hand? Huh?"

"I only did what was necessary. What´s wrong with gaining a few more abilities while doing so?"

"You´re a murderer. You killed Nathan … and Peter. And Claire, for god´s sake. I wonder why you didn´t kill Angela too and wipe out the whole Petrelli family. You were on a good way."

"I didn´t try to wipe them out." Sylar tightened the grip around Mohinder, his anger flashing up again. "They were in my way, I had no choice."

"Then you better go right ahead and kill me too." the doctor replied without hesitation. "´Cause I´m not giving you a choice either."

Sylar looked at him, his head askew. "Come on, Mohinder, try to be reasonable." he begged. "We worked good together these last three years."

"No. You deceived me to do your dirty work."

Once again Sylar´s anger rose up and he closed his fist a little more, choking.

"Your memory seems to need some refreshment, doctor." he hissed. "It was you who came up with the test to find out if someone had an ability or not. No one forced you to do this." A moment of silence and then Sylar´s gaze morphed into something that almost looked like a plead. "Do you _want_ me to kill you?" he asked the struggling scientist. But instead of letting him speak, he kept his throat tight. "No." he said. "Better don´t answer that. You´ll only make it worse for yourself."

A distant noise made him turn his head, a smile gracing his lips. "Ah, yeah. Almost forgot."

The sound was obvious. Something had been knocked over, further down this alleyway, maybe in a street around the corner. Not too far away yet. They probably weren´t sure if they should really run away or if they should come back to help the doctor. Well, soon they´d know that they should have run away. And this pathetic try to gain his attention so he would come and follow them, probably walking into their trap … it wouldn´t work.

He turned back to Mohinder, still smiling in anticipation for the hunt. The doctor´s gaze was furious. Of course. He knew what Sylar would do.

"I´ll take care of you later." Sylar decided and moved his hand a little, just a little to put the fuming man to sleep.

Mohinder´s limb body fell down into Sylar´s arms and he carefully lay him down to the ground. Another sound and his attention was back on Shawn, somewhere ahead in those alleyways, obviously impatiently awaiting him.

Sylar stood up, facing ahead … and smiled.

It had been a while since he´d had a worthy pray and Shawn was a foe more than worth the hunt. Maybe not for a power – what was this single one against so many others? – but for the intellect and for the heart. Because he definitely understood the rules of the hunt. That invisible threat between hunter and pray, which, when the opponents were equal, could make the border between them swim and waver, until no one really knew anymore who was hunting whom.

For years Sylar/Nathan had ordered Shawn and his team to find Sylar and even though he´d known that it was impossible, sometimes he´d wondered what would happen if Shawn should actually find him. If he should someday learn the truth about Nathan Petrelli. What would he do? Well. It seemed he was about to find out.

He walked around the corner, his eyes and ears trained to not to miss the slightest details. So far it was quiet. No sound, no movement. But the noise Shawn had made to lure him here, had come from this allay, he knew.

Sylar kept walking, slowly, carefully. Always listening. Always ready.

"Oh, Shahawn." he sang into the silence of the allay. The echo of his own voice was the only answer he got. "Where are you, buddy?" he whispered, turning around in all directions. "Come out, come out wherever you are."

Suddenly there was a sound. Sylar halted, listened. Nothing more.

He smiled and kept walking.

After a while he heard him again, closer this time, more bold. And then he cocked his gun.

"Freeze." he demanded, his voice astoundingly even.

Sylar smiled and stopped, standing still.

"Turn around." Shawn demanded and Sylar complied. He raised his brows at him.

"There you are." he found. "I´ve been looking for you."

Shawn didn´t answer.

"Where´s your friend?" Sylar asked him but he still didn´t get any answer.

There was something in Shawn´s eyes, something hard and Sylar decided that he didn´t like it to be shot, twice a day. One flick of his hand and the gun was ripped out of Shawn´s hand, flying away into a distance, too far for the special agent to reach it.

"Don´t be stupid, Shawn." Sylar spoke. "You know that you can´t defeat me with something like that."

Shawn gave a humorless little chuckle. "Funny." he said. "My team was looking for you for all these years. And all this time you were right in front of us." he shook his head, smirking. "I´d give something to see Gus´ face now."

Sylar couldn´t help but smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. Shawn spread his arms.

"So what am I supposed to do now?" he asked him. "I figure you can imagine that I´m a bit ambivalent right now. Technically I have to arrest you. Only that I never imagined it to be you, you know. Kinda unproductive to arrest the own boss."

Sylar didn´t respond, but Shawn didn´t need a response. He understood him very well.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked again.

"I don´t know, Shawn." Sylar spoke. "What do you think?"

The head of the President´s very own special task force only shook his head. And somehow Sylar couldn´t help himself. He was disappointed. If he´d expected anyone to find a way out of this, it would have been Shawn. But as it seemed the former fake psychic had met his match, the one situation where he couldn´t talk himself out anymore. What a shame.

"I tell you what I think." Sylar spoke up, deciding to end his suffering at last. "All this …" he gestured around and shook his head. "Let´s chalk this up to an unfortunate episode, okay? No one but us knows what happened here."

A frown appeared on Shawn´s forehead, facing Sylar´s intense almost encouraging gaze. The killer nodded.

"So why don´t you do what you always did best," he went on. "And help me do the right thing? Help me catch that little Japanese Picachu and make him bring us back home. We all go back to work and everything will be just like always."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Shawn blurred out: "Sounds great." A quick shake of his head. "Only it wouldn´t." he shattered Sylar´s hopes of having convinced him. "Do you really think I could just forget that? Who you really are? Tell me how I should do that?" He pointed at his own head, smiling. "Eidetic memory, remember?"

His smile vanished and he shook his head.

"Every time I look at Jules from now on, I will wonder if you´re really the man she married. Every time I´ll talk to Lassie, I´ll wonder what he´d do if he knew … that he works for a murderer. And don´t even get me started on Gus. Because I don´t know how long I could keep quiet, as soon as he starts asking me why I act so different all the sudden when I´m around you. And we both know he´d notice."

Sylar lowered his gaze for a moment, believing that Shawn was done. But he wasn´t.

"And what about Suresh?" he asked, twisting the knife in the wound even more. "Even if _I_ would agree to keep it a secret. You really think _he_ would? Not the way he looked at you when he learned who you really were."

Sylar closed his eyes, squeezed them shut, as if it were his ears. He didn´t want to hear any more of this. He´d hoped that there was a way to fix this mess. But Shawn didn´t seem to want this. Not when he went on and on about how impossible this was.

When Sylar looked back up at him, he was angry. One motion of his hand shoved Shawn backwards into the wall. The young man gasped but only for a moment. Then his back hit the wall and the air got forced out of his lungs.

"I never wanted it to end like this, Shawn." Sylar told him.

His victim – and friend – struggled under his grip, his eyes never leaving his.

"I know." he brought out, almost a whimper.

Sylar nodded, understanding, and it almost broke his heart. "Don´t worry." he said. "I´ll take care of Abigail … and the child, as soon as it is born. Your faithful services will not be forgotten."

"What about Suresh?" Shawn blurred out, once again. "You kill him too?"

Something inside of Sylar flinched at this and made him stop. He didn´t want to but his determination had just been cracked.

"See?" Shawn pointed out, seeing the change in his eyes. "And that´s the point that really gives me a hard time. I have worked for you for two years. You´ve been _my_ friend too. Maybe not the way Gus is my friend or the way Jules and Lassie are my friends. But we. Were. Friends, dude. Tell me that I´m wrong."

Sylar could only stare at him, frowning, confused, almost too shocked to respond. Shawn smiled at this missing answer, shaking his head.

"I just refuse to believe that the man I learned to know over these last two years, did not exist." he said. "I might have seen another face but I´m good at estimating people. Something about all this must have been real. Because I refuse to believe that someone, even a shapeshifter, could fool me like that for. Two. Years." He took a breath, so quickly it sounded like a sob. "I need to know." he said. "That it was not just a lie. That the man I know is still somewhere in there." His gaze was pleading. "Show me that he´s still there." he begged. "Show me that he was not just an illusion."

Sylar looked into those hazel eyes of a man he´d considered his friend for two years and all the sudden he just couldn´t stop himself.

He lowered his arm, not quiet letting go of his telekinetic grip on Shawn, but enough to allow him some more freedom to move. His face was morphing almost on its own, reforming itself. Until it was Nathan who stood before Shawn again, not Sylar the serial killer.

Shawn´s face didn´t change. He just looked at him.

Sylar/Nathan smiled, almost apologetic and shrugged his shoulder.

"I´m still me, Shawn." he said with the voice of Nathan Petrelli, President of the United States. "It´s always been me."

Shawn swallowed, his gaze full of regret. "I know." he said.

And that was the last thing Sylar saw, before something was driven into the back of his head, so violently that he thought it would come out on the other side again. Barely three seconds later the world around him went dark.


	12. Fixing Mistakes

**Fixing Mistakes**

Once again Shawn was looking down on the man that had been his President for these past three years – his boss for two – and once again he had no real idea what to do with this, emotionally and intellectually. It was just weird. Ridiculous. An impossible situation. But he was here and damn, he had to deal with it.

He moved around him a few steps, until he could see the back of his head, where Hiro had driven the spike into his brain. Fortunately it was a small thing and the way it stuck in there, it was barely visible. Easy to disguise. Good. Shawn sighed. This was a human being for god´s sake.

"Sorry, dude." he murmured at the dead – switched off – man on the ground. "Had to be."

He looked up and met Hiro´s gaze. He nodded at him and the nod was returned.

"I hope you´re sure about the spot." Hiro mentioned, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Don´t worry about that." Shawn replied. "I just hope you hit it right."

He moved the tip of his foot under Nathan´s/Sylar´s shoulder and lifted him a little, retrieving the foot immediately and jumped back, just in case he should wake up, pissed and vengeful. But Sylar/Nathan didn´t wake up. He stayed where he was, how he was, and didn´t move. Didn´t breath. Didn´t live. God, that was cross.

"All right." Shawn cleared his throat. "Um … I guess we need to get going then. This body has to get back where it belongs. That means we ehm … have to make him look exactly like that body he´s supposed to replace. That means we … have to …" he couldn´t quiet bring himself to say it out loud and so he just made the matching motion with his hands, indicating what had to be done.

"Slice his throat?" Hiro finished the sentence for him.

"Yeah." Shawn affirmed and quickly turned away from the body. "You do that."

Hiro´s head snapped upwards. "Me?"

"Yeah. It was your idea to come here, so …"

"But … I never slit anyone´s throat in my life. Not even an animal."

"Are you kidding?" Shawn cried. "You´re Japanese."

"And?"

"I once pointed at a chicken on a sales cart in Chinatown." Shawn recaptured some very marking life experience. "And that woman just took it and slit its throat. Just because I pointed at it. Dude, I´m just glad I didn´t point at a waitress."

Hiro opened his mouth but closed it again. He just didn´t know what to do with this story. Shawn´s gaze was still disgusted and terrified by the memory alone.

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted their discussion. The two of them turned around, expecting everything from a beggar to a police officer. But instead it was Mohinder Suresh who´d found his way to them. When he saw them, he increased his speed.

"Great." Shawn mumbled to himself. "Now we have to deal with the mad scientist. Pun intended."

"What happened?" Suresh asked when he reached them, eying the unconscious man on the ground. "Is he dead? How …?"

"I stabbed him in the back of his head." Hiro explained.

"I told him where." Shawn added, making the geneticist frown.

"How could _you_ know?"

Instead of answering him, Shawn took out his cell phone and showed him the text message he´d received three years ago.

"Chris Walken says: A fallen angel can not be killed by shooting his heart. You need to stab him in the back of his head. 3 inches up the disk, one to the left"

Suresh read it but didn´t understand.

"Someone sent me a message." Shawn explained, raising a finger to stop Hiro from speaking up. "I´m not entirely sure, who wrote those messages." he emphasized and Hiro was quiet. "But this someone seems to know exactly what we have to do." Shawn finished.

Mohinder looked at the message again, still not understanding. "What´s that supposed to mean?" he asked.

"It´s a reference. The Prophecy. Christopher Walken played the Arc Angel Gabriel. It was a trilogy. In the first movie he was the villain. But he got defeated and was forced to live as a human. In the last film he helped to defeat the evil guy and saved the world. As reward he got his wings back and was allowed to get back to heaven. Was a pretty cool movie, you should watch it someday."

"Sylar is not a fallen angel." Mohinder insisted on reality. "He´s a monster."

Shawn threw his head back in exasperation. "It´s just a reference, dude. And right now it´s not important anyway. Important is that we get this body to where it has to be, so we can finish our mission."

Mohinder still didn´t understand. "What mission?"

"To repair the past. Parkman stole the body of the real Nathan and screwed up everything."

"Why should he do that?" Mohinder demanded to know, interrupting Shawn in the middle of his speech.

"Doesn´t matter, but he did it." the fake psychic cried. "That´s why Sylar could take over Nathan´s place and become President in the first place." he explained, so this idiot of a scientist would understand. "Because no one knew that the real Nathan was supposed to be dead. Of course he could fool them and take his place. We need to fix this mistake. And that means this body has a mission to accomplish."

Finally, finally after so much struggle, Mohinder seemed to understand. He looked down on the body of the fake Nathan Petrelli, a glimmer of hate in his eyes, and nodded.

"All right." he said. "I´ll help you."

Shawn was so taken by surprise that he halted and blinked as if he´d been slapped in the face. "Really?"

The gaze of the Indian was firm. "Yes." he said. "If there is any way to make up for all the mistakes I´ve made while working for this monster, I´ll do it." He turned his head to look down on the body again, again with this unmistakable hate in his eyes. "That way he´ll at least do some good before he dies." he mumbled.

"No, no." Hiro cried up, raising both hands in denial. "He doesn´t have to die. Not forever. After the funeral we can get him out again. Bring him back."

"What?" Suresh stared at him as if he were crazy. "Are you kidding? Resurrecting this monster? We should rather burn his body and make sure that he never comes back again."

Shawn sighed. Slowly he´d had enough of this whole discussion.

"Listen." he said. "We can talk about that later. Right now we should hurry. I´m not that firm with all this time travel business, but I think we´re running out of time. The suite where he should be, will not be closed forever. Soon someone will get in there to collect that body and then it would be good if he´d be there."

"Right." Hiro agreed eagerly and even Suresh nodded. Shawn turned back to the body.

"All right. Then let´s get started. Um … Oh. Oh, dammit."

"What?" Suresh cried, mirroring Shawn´s inner panic.

The fake psychic hissed, angry with himself for not noticing this earlier. "He´s wearing the wrong clothes." he threw his hand down in frustration. "God dammit. We need to dress him the way Nathan was dressed when he got … you know."

"Killed?" Hiro offered the word.

Shawn didn´t even hear it. He´d just had the perfect idea and snapped his fingers in triumph.

"Lassie took his clothes as evidence and put the impersonator into an orange jump suit." he recalled. "The clothes should still be in the evidence room." Another thought chased this perfect idea and destroyed it immediately. "Aaarrg, but that is in the future." Shawn cried. "And since we just changed the past, we can´t go there to get them. Dammit, why does that have to be so complicated?"

Hiro looked at him, blinking startled. "We didn´t change the past yet." he stated and startled Shawn even more.

"We didn´t? Then what did we just do?" he asked.

"Nothing. The past we came here to repair is still the same. I can go to the future and get the clothes."

"But …"

"Don´t you worry, Shawn Spencer." Hiro talked over him, a confident smile on his face. "I´ll be right back."

"Wait. I still don´t understand how …" But in this moment, Hiro had already shut his eyes and was gone, leaving nothing behind but an empty space.

For a moment Shawn could just stare at this spot where he´d been standing, wondering what would happen to them if something kept him from coming back. But then he forced these thoughts away and made himself focus. When he met the gaze of Mohinder Suresh, he could see the same kind of reluctance in the scientist´s eyes that he felt. Shawn cleared his throat.

"Maybe we … well, maybe we should use the time and do some preparations." he suggested, gesturing at the body and Mohinder understood.

Together they crouched down and quickly took off the suit President Petrelli had been wearing today. Clothes that were far too fine for what he was supposed to wear on that day in time that had actually happened three years ago. The day when he´d died. God, that was a creepy thought. Shawn was shivering.

The sound of rushing air was audible behind him and when he turned around, he saw Hiro standing there, a pile of folded clothes in his arm and a victorious smile on his lips.

"Sweet, dude." Shawn praised and immediately got back to work, slipping the blood strained clothes onto the man, that only wore the face of the one who´d actually died in them. Again there was a wave of goosebumps running over Shawn´s arms. He stood up and took a step back, steeling himself for what would have to come next.

"We um … we still need to …" he made the motion with his hand, just like before.

"Slice his throat." Hiro finished for him, just like before.

"Yeah." Shawn mentally shook the nausea off and got his pocket knife out, sliding the blade out. He bit his lip, hesitating. His glance went to Hiro but Hiro only shook his head, taking half a step back.

Mohinder looked back and forth between them. "What?" he asked. "What is it?"

"We haven´t concluded yet, who of us is gonna do it." Shawn explained.

The eyebrows of the scientist went up at this. "Are you kidding?"

"Hey." Shawn cried, pointing at him with the knife. "I´m an investigator not a hitman."

"For god´s sake." came the impatient grumble from the scientist and before Shawn knew what had happened, he´d taken the knife out of his hand and leaned over Nathan, grabbing his collar to steady the body.

Shawn was shocked … and riveted. He didn´t want to see it but he just couldn´t look away. Suresh brought the knife down on Nathan´s throat. Sylar´s throat, Shawn corrected himself. That´s what Suresh saw in him. That was why he could do it. Because he hated the man. He wanted to kill him, wanted his blood for the blood of his father.

Maybe it was a good thing that he was here after all. Maybe that was the reason why the message had told him to bring him along. But now that the moment was there and Shawn expected Suresh to make the cut, already seeing him do it with lust and savage rage, the geneticist halted. His eyes were on the face of the man before him, Nathan´s face, and the hate in his eyes started to flicker.

"You mustn´t hesitate." Shawn heard himself say. "The wound has to look as if Sylar´d done it. If you hesitate, they´ll notice the difference."

Mohinder´s grip on Nathan´s collar fastened. "This man murdered my father." he recalled. "I will not hesitate."

He grabbed the knife faster and put it down … and hesitated, only for a moment. Then he cut.

The blade went through the skin much easier than it should have, maybe even too easy, but definitely faster than the scientist had expected it. Blood came splashing out of the wound, jumped up and right into Mohinder´s face.

The man of science gasped in shock and jumped up, skipping back with trembling legs, wiping his eyes frantically with his sleeve. The look in his eyes was a mixture of so many emotions that Shawn had no idea what to call it.

"Dr. Suresh?" Hiro addressed the panting man, carefully. He got no answer.

"It´s all right." Shawn said at last, not even trying to get through to him. It was obvious that he wouldn´t succeed anyway. Not after this. "It´s all right." he just repeated. "We take care of that."

As soon as the gaping wound on Nathan´s/Sylar´s throat had stopped spilling blood, Shawn and Hiro lifted him up, just enough so they could carry him to where he needed to be. Hiro closed his eyes and they left the allay behind, leaving a panting Mohinder Suresh to deal with himself until they´d be back.

**...**

When they appeared in the suite, the place was empty. The doors had been closed and where the body of the dead Nathan was supposed to lie, there was only a cover on the couch. Blank and undisturbed, as if someone really only wanted to cover the couch.

"Matt Parkman made them all see a body that wasn´t there." Hiro spoke quietly.

"Well." Shawn shifted the weight he was carrying and lay it to the ground. "Now there will be one again."

He hurriedly ripped the cover off the couch and threw it aside. After they´d placed Sylar/Nathan where he was supposed to be, he swapped the white cover and let it glide down on the body. A red stain appeared where the cloth touched the neck of the body, spreading slowly. Shawn couldn´t help, it felt like leaving something behind. Someone.

Noises from outside the suite made him swirl around. There were voices, arguing people and then the doors were pushed open.

"I should have never let you make me do this." Matt Parkman cried, marching into the suite. "What if I did something wrong? If he remembers who he really is? This is never going to work."

"What´s done is done." Noah Bennet replied. "They´ve all seen Nathan alive and well, nothing is gonna change that. And you erased all the memories that were left of Sylar …"

"No, I didn´t erase it." Parkman argued fiercely. "I suppressed it. Overcharged it with Nathan´s memories, which are. Not. Real. You have to know that."

"They are as real as they need to be." Angela Petrelli insisted, her voice calm and even. "I looked into his eyes and when I did this, I saw my son. Nathan´s still in there. He´s alive. Thanks to you."

Parkman looked into her eyes. "Yeah, well. Whatever." He shook his head in desperate need for some sense in all this. "We still have a body here that looks exactly like Nathan." he pointed out. "What are we gonna do about that?"

"We let him vanish." Bennet answered without hesitation. "I have a place where we can store him."

"Store him."

"Yeah." Bennet threw Angela Petrelli a brief glance, before making his way to the door. "Excuse me for a second." he said, getting his cell phone out. "Just need to make a call."

Shawn and Hiro didn´t follow him. They stayed hidden in the corner, listening, watching, waiting for the bomb to go off. But it didn´t.

Angela Petrelli uncovered the face of her dead son, only for a moment, and then turned away from him again. She didn´t touch it and she didn´t suspect anything. So far so good.

"Where will they bring him?" Shawn asked Hiro, his voice so low it was barely a whisper.

"Matt Parkman said something about a storehouse." the time traveler answered.

"I see. All right." Shawn glanced one more time at the two people in the suite, who were waiting for Noah Bennet to return. "Maybe we should get outahere." he decided at last and Hiro agreed.

**...**

When they returned to the allay, they found the scientist in a much better state than before. He´d wiped off most of the blood that had landed in his face and somehow had managed it to pull himself together. At least to a certain degree.

"Did you make it?" he asked them, his voice not quiet even yet.

Hiro smiled and took a quick bow. "The body has taken its place again." he told him. "Everything is back in place."

"Then we can go back now." Mohinder exhaled in relief.

"No." Shawn objected, making Mohinder and Hiro turn to him in confusion.

"No?" Hiro repeated and Shawn shook his head.

"We put the body in place again but we don´t know what´ll happen if we just go now." he said. "Who knows what could happen, we could go back to our time and find it ruled by dinosaurs."

"That´s ridiculous." Suresh cried.

"Yeah, maybe." Shawn admitted. "But if you ever watched Butterfly Effect you´d know that there is no way to be sure. Except … by making sure."

Suresh didn´t seem to agree. "What are you talking about?" he demanded to know.

"We don´t know how much your friend´s mess has taken effect by now." Shawn explained. "Things can still happen to this body that can screw up history. Things that we can´t foresee."

"He´s right." Hiro agreed. At least someone who got his drift.

Shawn nodded at him. "That means we can´t just go back now." he deduced at last. "Not yet. No, we can´t go back before we´re sure that this body is safely buried and can not do any harm anymore."

"What do you mean?" Suresh asked. "You want us to stay here until the funeral?" He turned to Hiro. "When is this supposed to happen?"

The small man visibly did his best to remember. "Nathan Petrelli was buried three and a half months after we cremated Sylar at Coyote Sands." he summarized at last.

Shawn almost couldn´t believe what he´d just heard. "You did what?" he cried.

"It wasn´t him." Hiro hurried to assure him, as if he needed to apologize.

Shawn wasn´t sure what to do with this. This whole alternate reality thing was giving him a headache. The best he could do was to run with what had happened and hope for the best. His own life and the people he shared it with depended on it.

"All right, whatever." he dismissed the subject of Sylar being cremated or not. "You´ve got three and a half months to tell me that story." he decided.

"So we really gonna stay here for that long?" Suresh asked, still not ready to believe this.

Shawn gave him a firm look. "Yes."

And with that the decision was made. Even Suresh could see that.

Shawn turned around and started walking, the two other men following him in silence until they reached the end of the alleyway. He could see Noah Bennet on the other side of the street, waving for a car that stopped at the curbside. He leaned down to the driver, probably giving him order to wait, until they´d brought the body down. After that he went back in the hotel.

The car waited.

"We will watch over this body." Shawn spoke, to no one in particular. "And make sure nothing happens to it – or because of it – that isn´t supposed to happen."

He threw a brief glance at his two companions but neither of them said anything in response. The decision had been made.


	13. If Tomorrow Never Comes

**If tomorrow never comes**

He´d worked in a diner before. His past experience and a demonstration of his skills in that regard were the reason why they´d gotten the job. He and Shawn Spencer. Mohinder had settled with doing what he knew best to do, to earn the money they needed to pay the rent for their spare rooms. Rooms they´d taken right above the diner.

Nothing of this whole arrangement was coincidence. Everything was planned out. Even the diner. Although it had been a great deal of luck that there had been a diner across the street from the storehouse they were here to watch. A great deal of luck. Maybe fate was on their side for a change. Maybe they could do better this time around. And maybe, just maybe, they would be able to make things the way they´d once been.

Hiro put the plates down on the table, telling the guests to enjoy their waffles, and glanced out of the window, over the street and the parking lot, to the storehouse. The storehouse in which Sylar´s body lay in freezing, formed like Nathan Petrelli for the rest of the world. So far no one had ever come to disturb this setting. The store was a secret one, only known by the people involved in this cover up. And if things were really back to how they should be, this should not change, until two more months from now.

It had been five weeks so far. Five weeks of waiting. Watching. Blending in. Doing their best not to disturb anything, not to raise attention. So far things were going well. Hiro had kept track of the events happening out there. He was reading the paper, watching the news, occasionally checking the internet. As far as he could tell, things were going their way. The right way. The way history had meant it to happen.

Two more months, he reminded himself, over and over again. Two more months and they could go home. But in what condition?

He hadn´t only watched the world over these last few weeks. He´d also watched his two companions. Shawn and Mohinder. Two people he´d thought he knew. But now. What he´d learned these last few weeks had opened his eyes for another change, his and Matt Parkman´s mistake had caused. And this one might not be as easily repaired, as the replacement of Sylar for Nathan Petrelli´s body.

Shawn Spencer was the easier case of the two of them. He was different from the one Hiro´d met in Santa Barbara but not that different. He was a little more serious than his other self. Maybe a little more grown up. But he was still what Hiro remembered him to be, deep down in his soul.

When they´d gotten here to take this job, he´d actually advised him and Mohinder to stay outside, in case the white people in the diner should be having a problem with foreigners.

Hiro couldn´t understand why he should think that, until he´d realized that Shawn Spencer had mistaken a trip of three years backwards in time, with one that went several decades into the past. It had needed a discussion of about ten minutes to convince him that they were merely in the year 2008 and not at 1955 or even 1885.

The fact that there were no carriages driving through the streets, had helped a lot to convince him about that.

But that little episode had convinced Hiro that Shawn Spencer was still Shawn Spencer, underneath all that devoted and determined manners of that experienced government agent he´d been over the last three years. He was the third version of this man, Hiro had learned to know, since his unplanned trip to a future he never hoped to see again. A future that had been prevented in this version of reality, not by him, but by a combination of forces, under the lead of the President.

A well planned operation, a strategically placed bomb, invented by the President´s very own scientist and the threat for the world was defeated. Only that in this version of it, poor Frank Wieland had not survived this rescue mission.

Many of these so called rescue missions had ended with the death of the so called culprits. Just like in Central Park just before the Cheerleader, Peter Petrelli and Noah Bennet had died, trying to stop Sylar from blaming people with abilities, for that massacre Samuel Sullivan had done.

What a dark place a world must be when a murderer got celebrated as a hero, again and again. A reality that had, as it seemed, just doomed in the mind of Dr. Suresh, now that he knew the real identity of the man he´d worked for. And that was why he was the more serious case of the two men.

Shawn Spencer might not see the difference, the subtle details, but Hiro did. He´d known Mohinder Suresh long enough to understand, to notice that dwelling hate beneath the surface. The disgust the geneticist was feeling, against Sylar, against himself, and Hiro had no idea which one was the worse.

What would happen to them, Hiro wondered, when all this would be over? Right now they were living in a pocket in time. A place where they were neither strangers nor did they belong here. What would happen to them, as soon as the world changed – hopefully into what it had been before.

Would they cease to exist, since they were not really a part of it? Or would they simply forget that they´d ever been here? As if all this never happened? Hiro suddenly understood how less he really knew about that fragile construct of time and space, and how it was all connected. If he didn´t even know what would happen after all this was over … how should he even carry on? How should he know what to do? Or if it was the right thing to do?

Shawn Spencer seemed to know. Or maybe he just didn´t bother to think about it. He kept writing down messages, messages that were meant to be sent away to his cell phone, as soon as they were written. By now he obviously believed that Hiro´s theory was right, that he´d been the one who´d sent those messages. But if he´d already gotten those messages, why bothering with writing them? Didn´t he already have them?

"It seems my eidetic memory is falling a victim to shifting time." he´d answered, when Hiro´d asked him this question.

And so he kept writing them, scratching out words and adding new ones, in order to find the perfect references to bring over the instructions he needed. References only his other self would be able to understand when the time was up.

One of the first he´d sent – from a prepayed cell phone, so the number wouldn´t be traceable – was the one that had brought them here. The one that had made him understand what he had to do, when he´d been outside of the interrogation room.

"If I could go back where all this began …" Hiro´d read the message over his shoulder and he´d frowned. This quote was from Butterfly Effect, he knew that. But it was still confusing.

"This is not where it all began." he´d mentioned to Shawn. "That would be much further in the past."

"Hey, give me a break." Shawn had cried. "It´s not easy to find a references that actually fits our situation. It will do. I mean it´s not that they ever made a film out of this here." he gestured around the small apartment, they´d rented. A second later he halted, thinking this over. "Although I think it would make a great movie." he found. "Or maybe a TV show, what do you think?"

Hiro had tried to answer but Shawn had been faster. "I´d call it Time Special Agent. No? Or maybe Shawn´s Heroes. Or maybe …"

"There won´t be a TV show." Hiro had interrupted him gently.

"Maybe not." Shawn admitted. "But it would get great reviews if it would."

Hiro had not objected.

**...**

There was a butterfly sitting on the wall, in the corner of the sitting room, just under the ceiling. It hadn´t moved for days and Shawn assumed the poor thing had died in that corner.

He could have taken it down but he didn´t. Partly because he was too lazy to get a chair over there and climb on it. But also because looking at that dead butterfly kinda reminded him of why they were here.

He didn´t understand much of the real science behind that chaos theory Ian Malcom had talked about in Jurassic Park, but he knew that a dead butterfly could not cause a storm on the other end of the world. Maybe, just maybe, if they could keep the butterfly from waking up, coming back to life so to say, they could prevent the storm.

**...**

One night, circa two months into their stay, Shawn noticed the dark glare of the scientist, out of the window and over at the storehouse, when he exchanged him for his half of the nightwatch. Not that he hadn´t noticed this before but something about the guy´s mood was different tonight. Somehow more gloomy than usual. Maybe it was the bad tacco he´d had for dinner.

He threw him an asking gaze, but Mohinder barely reacted, barely glanced at him.

"Every time I see that door, I have to remind myself that I can´t just go over there and chop his head off for good." he spoke up, his voice low, his gaze never leaving the store on the other side. Shawn looked at him with a deep, worried frown.

"It´s been two months, Doc." he said. "Don´t you think it´s about time you get over that? He fooled me too."

"Did he also murder your father?"

Shawn sighed. This was not an easy subject but he felt that it was an important one. Damn, of course it was.

"He has been your best friend for three years." he emphasized. "And longer."

"No." Mohinder replied, way too calm for Shawn´s taste. "Nathan was my friend. Not this man. How would you feel if Gus suddenly turned out to be someone else?"

Shawn´s mouth dropped open at this. "That´s a ridiculous comparison." he cried. "Gus and I know each other since we were kids."

"I´m just saying." Mohinder insisted. "Sylar´s a murderer. A monster. And none of the stories Hiro has told us, will ever change that."

Shawn looked into this hard dark eyes of the man he´d worked with for two years and he just knew there was no way to get through to him. Not tonight anyway. He wouldn´t even listen.

"All right." he said therefor and sat down. "I got your point. Have a good night. I´ll take it from here."

Mohinder nodded and stood up, quietly passing the sleeping Hiro on the couch, on his way to the bedroom. After the door had closed behind him, Shawn´s eyes searched the corner under the ceiling. He didn´t know exactly why but he´d gotten used to the sight of that butterfly. If in a good way or a bad one, he wasn´t sure.

**...**

"You never told me where you learned to be a waiter." Shawn asked, a few days later. "I thought you´re working on a desk. Did your dad make you start in the cafeteria?"

Hiro chuckled. "No." he said. "I met a waitress, once upon a time in Texas. She taught me a lot of things."

Shawn smiled at that small man before him. "Good for you."

**...**

"Dammit." Shawn threw the pen down in frustration, leaning back in his chair. "I need to travel through time to get this done."

"You did time travel." Hiro recalled, frowning.

"Not like that. Some of these messages only make sense when I read them at a certain very specific moment. And since we won´t stay in the past for years, I won´t be able to send myself those messages when I need them." He buried his head in his hand. "Dammit. I sound like Lassie already. No references, please."

"How about Frequency?" Hiro asked, startling him.

"What?"

"To let yourself know what to do when the time is up."

"I can´t call myself, that´s why I send texts, I thought you got that." Shawn´s eyes wandered upwards to the dead butterfly under the ceiling. He sighed. "And in Frequency no one traveled through time."

"You don´t need to either. Don´t you understand? When John Sullivan needed his dead father´s briefcase to solve the case, he let him hide it somewhere, where no one would find it until he could go there and get it."

Shawn´s mind had started to race. That was it. That was it.

"Hiro." he exclaimed. "You are a genius."

**...**

The next day a car stopped in front of the storehouse. Not on the parking lot, but right in front of the gate. Shawn saw it by coincidence, when he delivered the breakfast for two customers. Outside on the sidewalk, he could see Mohinder, just getting ready to enter his taxi. He´d noticed the car too. Shawn was outside with him in no time.

"That´s Peter and Nathan." Mohinder told him.

"What are they doing here?" Shawn hissed, his nerves already making somersaults.

Mohinder shook his head. "Where´s Hiro?" he asked.

"Getting a delivery at the back." Shawn answered. "Dammit, what do we do now?"

For the first time since Shawn knew Mohinder, it was the scientist who took the lead and not the Special agent. Together they hurried over the street and snuck over to the storehouse, hiding just behind the corner, to watch what the two unexpected visitors were doing.

Through the open gate they could see how Nathan, the Sylar from this time, opened the freezer. Shawn could barely suppress a yelp when he saw this. Oh, this was not good.

Nathan/Sylar reached down to touch the body … and jerked away as if it had bitten him.

"What?" his brother asked, concerned.

Shawn realized for the first time that this was a man he´d only known as a name, on a casualty list. And now he was standing there, alive and well. God, that was weird.

"I saw … Mohinder." Nathan/Sylar said, shaking his head in confusion. "Leaning over that body."

"Mohinder?"

Shawn´s heart just about stopped at this.

"And Parkman." Nathan went on. "I heard his voice. He was angry."

Peter frowned. "I haven´t spoken to Mohinder in months." he said, taking out his cell phone.

"What are you doing?" Nathan asked but Shawn already knew the answer.

"Oh, no." he breathed, his hands clinging to the concrete of the wall. "That´s not good. We need to stop them."

"What?" Mohinder held him back before he could run in there.

"Didn´t you hear what he said?" Shawn hissed. "He saw that you slit his throat and now he´s gonna call your other you and that´ll screw up everything once again."

He was in the process of passing the corner, to stop this from happening, but once again Mohinder held him back.

"Wait." he whispered. "That´s not necessary."

"What? Dude, did you just hear what I said?"

"I heard you. But they won´t reach me."

"What? How do you know?"

"Because I can´t answer my phone." the geneticist answered calmly. "I was in a mental hospital at that time."

Shawn was confused. "What, as a doctor?" he asked.

"No." the doctor seemed hesitant. "As a patient."

"What?"

"It´s a long story." Mohinder shook his head. "Hiro wanted me out of the way to save his girlfriend and he got what he wanted. Let´s just say it´s highly unlikely that I answer that call."

As it turned out he was right. Peter shook his head and gave up. "He´s not answering." he found.

Well, that would be an interesting story to be told, Shawn thought to himself.

"I think it´s more about Parkman anyway." Nathan said, looking down at the body with a deep frown.

"Why do you think that?"

"Don´t know." Nathan shook his head. "´s just a feeling."

"All right." Peter agreed. "Then let´s get out of here and see that we find him … and talk to him."

Shawn realized just in time, that the two of them were heading back, towards them. They hurried away to hide behind the corner and watched the two brothers get back to their car, driving away.

After they were gone Shawn dared to breath again.

"Okay. Looks as if everything goes just the way it is supposed to be." he commented. „Doesn´t it?"

"It fits the stories Hiro told us." Mohinder nodded.

His gaze wandered back to the gate, Nathan and Peter had closed again, safely. Something about it made Shawn feel uncomfortable.

"Time is almost up now, isn´t it?" the geneticist murmured. "Sylar will take over Nathan´s body very soon now. And then he´ll start killing again."

"Well, it´s not Nathan´s body." Shawn mentioned. "It´s Sylar´s. Technically."

"Maybe we can still do something." Suresh mumbled, talking to himself not to Shawn, not even paying attention to him.

"What are you talking about?" Shawn grabbed his shoulder, making him look at him. Suresh´s gaze was almost feverish.

"Maybe we can stop Sylar before he can do any harm to someone." he said. "We know where they´re going. This might be our only chance. So far he´s clueless."

"Yeah, but that is not why we´re here." Shawn recalled. "We´re not here to screw with history. We´re here to make it the way it was. To make things right."

"How can we make things right, when we allow this monster to keep killing people?"

"Because that is the way it was supposed to happen." Shawn told him. "You think this is easy for me? I sacrificed my life to be here, my wife and my kid."

For a moment, Mohinder stared at him in shock, remembering their life back home. But this moment passed.

"We all have to sacrifice something, Shawn." he said. "But Sylar is a monster and he needs to be stopped. How could we live with ourselves if we wouldn´t do that? If we wouldn´t even try."

"By accepting the fact that this is not our call." Shawn replied adamantly. "We came here for one reason and one reason only. And I have too much at stake here to allow you to screw this up. I´ll not allow you to do this."

"Oh, so you´re gonna fight me?" Mohinder asked, daring him.

"If it´s necessary." Shawn replied.

Mohinder raised his brows at him, and the former agent halted.

"Only … I would prefer not to do it hand to hand." he confessed. "Since you have a slight supernatural advantage over me. I´d prefer to do it in a game. Poker. Or Battleship. What do you say? Two out of three? Whoever comes out short, steps back. Figuratively. We could also play rummy, if you like that better. Or maybe chess. I´m pretty much indecisive about that."

He held the gaze of the scientist, uncertain what he would do. But in the end he won. Mohinder cracked and dropped his head, laughing quietly.

"Nathan once told me you used this tactic to trick him into …" he stopped himself when he realized who he was talking about.

Shawn smiled at him, nodding understandingly. "I know." he said. "I remember that. It´s really hard to imagine that neither of us will remember any of this as soon as this mission is over."

Mohinder looked at him, frowning. "Why do you think that?"

Shawn only shrugged. "Dunno. Isn´t that the way it works? When the past is changed we´ll never have done all those things. So how could we remember it?" He shook his head. "It´s a shame though. Some of those memories are quiet nice. I´ll miss them when they´re gone." He halted, frowning over his own words. "That doesn´t make much sense, does it?"

Mohinder smiled at him. "Not very much, no."

Shawn mirrored the smile. "Now, now." he said, padding the other man´s shoulder. "Let´s get back to work, shell we? We still have somewhat over a month to go."

This time Mohinder didn´t object.

**...**

Three weeks later, Shawn sat awake at night, standing guard. He felt restless, even more than usual. The time was almost up, he could feel that. If he´d still pretended to be psychic, he would have claimed to have a vision about it. But that was not it. It was just plain and simple intuition.

His gaze wandered up to the corner, under the ceiling, in search for the by now familiar sight of the dead butterfly. Only this time he didn´t find it there. It was gone. Shawn frowned. Had Hiro or Suresh taken it down after all? But then a movement on the opposite wall drew his attention, and Shawn´s heart just about stopped, for a moment, his jaw dropping open.

The butterfly. It was alive. It fluttered up and down the wall, probably trying to find a way out. It flew up, missed to get a hold and fell down again. For a moment it was out of Shawn´s sight, behind the couch. Then it came up again. Eventually it sat down in the middle of the wall, its wings opening and closing a few times before they came to a rest, flat against the surface.

Shawn just couldn´t believe it. This had to be a dream. This thing had been dead. It had not moved for three months and now it was back to life? What the F?

But it was there, he couldn´t deny that. And it was very much alive, indeed. If that was a good sign or a bad one, or if it was a sign at all, he didn´t know. Maybe it was better not to ask that question.

After a while, Shawn got up, picked up the butterfly, carefully between his hands and let it fly out of the window. At least someone who had a simple way of doing something with his second chance. Somehow Shawn had the bad feeling it wouldn´t be so easy for the three of them.

**...**

Hiro had never forgotten the date when he´d heard the news, about Nathan Petrelli who´d died in a plane crash. So it hadn´t been a surprise for them when Noah Bennet had come a day earlier to collect the body.

When the car drove into the parking lot before the storehouse, in the middle of the night, they were ready. For everything that might be necessary. Even getting Noah Bennet in on their plan, in case he should discover the spike in Nathan´s head after all. It would be less than ideal to bring someone else in on something that was already as fragile as this mission, but if it should turn out to be necessary, they wouldn´t have any choice.

That at least was the theory.

Sitting in the dark, watching it actually happen though, was something completely different. Hiro´s heart was beating up to his throat and there were pearls of sweat on his forehead. Please, don´t, he begged. Please don´t see it.

He wiped the sweat off his face and put his glasses back on. This was torture. Noah Bennet opened the coffin, getting ready to load Nathan´s body onto the stretcher he´d brought along. He glanced down on the body for a long time. Or maybe it only felt long for Hiro, who expected him to frown and inspect the body closer any second. Did he frown? It was never easy to tell what this man was thinking.

Eventually Noah Bennet reached into the coffin and began lifting the body out. Carefully but firmly, legs first, torso last. Three quick lifts and shoves and the pale body of Nathan Petrelli – Sylar – lay on the stretcher.

Once again Noah Bennet looked down on it, halting, musing. Noticing? But then he closed the coffin and went to work, dressing the dead man. White shirt, nice pants, just the way Nathan would have dressed if he´d still been alive.

The whole time Hiro waited for Noah to notice something, a small edge beneath the hair at the back of the head, but he didn´t. When he was done he threw a cover over the body, guarding it from curious gazes, just in case someone should be on the streets even that late at night.

Hiro hurried further away, hiding behind the corner and watched how Noah Bennet loaded the body into the trunk of his car, efficiently but careful. He supported the neck of the dead man, bedding him in the trunk, as if he could still feel uncomfortable if he lay the wrong way. Once again Hiro held his breath. But Noah Bennet didn´t halt to inspect the back of the head. He closed the trunk and Hiro exhaled.

But loading the body in was only half of what would happen tonight. The other half of it would happen on the faked crash site. The place where he would bring him now. For the world to find him. For the world to finally learn that Nathan Petrelli had died.

When the car left the parking lot and drove away into the night, Hiro took a deep breath. He could see Shawn and Mohinder in the car, on the edge of their seats, anticipating him, Hiro to lead the way. And he did. Because that was the only way to follow Noah Bennet without letting him notice that someone was behind him.

Had they simply driven after him, he would have noticed. But he wouldn´t notice Hiro. And as long as Hiro always stayed in visual distance to the car, he wouldn´t lose it. And Shawn and Mohinder would be able to follow him, thanks to the little tracker he was wearing under his skin and a few changes on the GPS system in Mohinder´s taxi. The taxi company wouldn´t be too thrilled when they got their vehicle back and found their system damaged but that was a sacrifice that had to be made, for the sake of the space-time-continuum.

When the car finally stopped, Hiro was confronted with a new surprise. Peter Petrelli was there, waiting for Noah. What was he doing here? He wasn´t supposed to be here. That wasn´t part of the plan. But Noah Bennet seemed to have expected him. The way he faced him, they´d agreed to meet here tonight.

"I want to see him." Peter Petrelli demanded.

Mohinder´s car stopped behind Hiro, lights off, too far away to be seen by either Noah Bennet or Peter Petrelli. Hiro didn´t turn around to look at his companions. He just couldn´t turn his eyes off from what happened down there in that depression, where Noah Bennet now opened the trunk for Peter to see his dead brother.

"What is Peter doing here?" Mohinder whispered but Hiro could only shrug.

"Plane´s ready to go." he heard the faint voice of Noah Bennet down there at the car. "I can handle that Peter. You don´t have to have any part of it."

"Yeah, I do." was the stoic answer of the dead man´s brother and with that Peter Petrelli reached up and closed the trunk again.

Together the two men went to work, preparing themselves with parachutes and eventually the plane, with everything that was needed to stage the accident in which Nathan Petrelli would die to the world tonight.

Hiro felt the tension of his two companions more than he saw it, when they finally got back to the car, to get the body. Neither of them dared to take his eyes of what went on down there. They´d agreed to let Noah Bennet in on the plan if it was necessary, because they´d figured that he´d be able to handle a secret like that. But Peter? It was his brother. What would he do if he knew that he was currently carrying the body of his brother´s killer, instead of Nathan himself?

It only needed one touch, a brushing of his hand over the wrong part of Nathan´s/Sylar´s head and he would know. And then it would be over. Three months of waiting, guarding a body that was not even a real body, for nothing. And the world, the world as they knew it, would cease to exist. Once again. Hiro felt as if he would faint any second.

"Hey." Shawn Spencer spoke up beside him, supporting him with a hand to his back. "You all right?"

Hiro managed a nod. They kept watching. Noah Bennet and Peter Petrelli carried the body over to the plane. Vanished inside. For almost an eternity. Eventually the motor of the plane got started. And then it took off the ground.

"What do we do now?" Shawn asked, looking after the plane. But neither Mohinder nor Hiro knew how to answer that question.

A little later, they watched the plane make a turn over the area, flying a circle. And then something seemed to drop out of it, hard to see in the dark, but the two parachutes were hard to miss after they opened.

The plane went flying for another minute, quickly losing height. The three men were unable to take their eyes off it. Just before it went down, Hiro grabbed the arms of the other two men and closed his eyes, just long enough to bring them closer to where the plane would crash.

They could almost feel the body of the plane scratch over the trees and they clearly heard the cracking sounds when the metal was ripped open. One of the engines exploded and then the plane just crashed down, right between the trees, making one hell of a noise, as if the sky had come down on this forest.

And after that … nothing. No further explosion and no fire. Just the distant cries of the animals that fled the scene. Noah Bennet must have emptied the tank before he´d started the plane, probably knowing that a totally burned out wrack would not convince anybody that Nathan Petrelli had really died in there. Not if the body could not be identified.

The three men looked at each other, realizing that they´d all held their breath so far. Finally. Finally it was over.

"Can we go home now?" Mohinder asked.

"Soon." Shawn nodded. "Very soon."


	14. When you come Back to Me Again

**When you come Back to Me Again**

Attempting that funeral was harder than he´d expected. Maybe because of all the memories that flooded his mind all the sudden. Seeing that coffin standing there, the flag lying on top of it with all the mourners around, grieving the death of Nathan Petrelli, the man Shawn had known as the President … it felt strange.

The man that got buried there, was a man he´d never actually met. The man he´d met had been Sylar, all along. The one man he and his team had been hunting for all these years.

Man, what a sick and twisted relationship he´d had with his so called boss. Stranger than anything he and Lassie could have come up with. At least they´d always known who they were. His act as a fake psychic didn´t really count in that regard. Lassie had always known anyway, even before Suresh had done that test on him and exposed him as a fake.

Shawn made himself focus. He trained his eyes on Angela Petrelli, the mother of the deceased. He´d met her a few times. She´d creeped him out ever since he first lay eyes on her, and each time they´d met it had seemed to get worse. But now that he looked at her, hunched in her seat, her face full of grief, even though she tried to look strong before all those strangers, he couldn´t help but feel sympathy for her. She´d lost her son after all.

So had he. Even if he hadn´t been born yet, even if Abby and him hadn´t known if it was a boy or a girl. They never wanted to know.

A taxi cab stopped at the curbside. A blonde girl got out of it and Shawn didn´t need Hiro to point it out to him. He just knew it was Claire, the illegitimate daughter – the dead girl, killed by Sylar, decapitated beyond any chance of healing – who´d just arrived, at her father´s funeral.

He threw a look at the two men standing beside him. Hiro returned his gaze briefly, his eyes painful, but anticipating. Suresh on the other hand didn´t even attempt to turn his head in his direction. He never took his eyes off the coffin.

For a moment Shawn wished he knew what was going on in the scientist´s head. But then he dismissed it. There was enough confusion in his own mind already. He didn´t need Suresh´s to deal with on top of this.

Down at the funeral the young Petrelli stepped up to the coffin.

"My brother Nathan taught me a lot of things." Shawn heard him say, holding a very neat and very touching grave speech.

A speech for a brother he thought he´d lost three months ago. A speech for someone that wasn´t even dead. Not regarded in the great scheme of things, considering all the possible time interferences and paradoxes they´d created. A grave speech for someone that wasn´t lying in this coffin. Because Nathan wasn´t in that coffin. In that coffin lay the man who´d murdered Nathan.

Shawn felt a humorless chuckle come up and tried to suppress it. A little too slow.

This time Suresh did turn around to him. He and Hiro looked at Shawn with confused, irritated frowns. Shawn didn´t know what else to do but to clear his throat and humbly lower his gaze. There was no way of explaining this joke to them anyway.

Together they kept watching the funeral. They listened to the words, the young Petrelli spoke, to honor his dead brother and somehow it was like hearing the voice of a ghost.

Shawn felt goosebumps all over his arms. This was weird. Something about this picture was dead wrong. The voice he heard, even though they were far away from the actual funeral, sounded much more distant than it should. And when Peter Petrelli, the dead brother in Shawn´s reality, leaned down to kiss the coffin, something in Shawn´s mind started shifting. No, not just in his mind. The world around him seemed to shift somehow, the whole universe.

He heard someone yell out and the line of soldiers at the funeral started to move.

_Close your eyes_, he heard the voice of his father in his mind.

_Dude, what is your glitch?_

_You, you are my glitch. Send the man to hell, Karen. … I mean, do what you think it´s best, chief."_

The soldiers folded the flag on the coffin, and all the sudden Shawn´s mind got flooded, with memories, far too quickly for him to even compute what he saw. And yet it was all there. So clear. So real.

Jules´ face when she´d learned that he´d lied about being a psychic, all those years, hurt, betrayed. Lassie´s gaze, triumphant with some well hidden regret behind his facade. The chief´s eyes, obvious in her sympathy. And Gus of course, so compassionate, when they´d been forced to close down Psych.

Abigail´s assurances that everything would be okay in the end. And over all of this, Nathan Petrelli´s face, smiling warmly at him. He´d come to the Psych office himself that day, just as they´d been about to lock it for good.

"_You´d like to work for the President?"_ he heard his voice again, fainting, distant.

One more time he saw that fatherly smile Nathan had given him, and then the image faded. Just like all of them did. As if they were erased. No, not completely erased. But faded out, put into the background to make room for more important images. New images that hadn´t been there before.

"_Shawn."_ he heard Gus say, low and compassionate. "_You want something from the vending machines? You know they got bagels."_

He saw Abby´s eyes, full of pain and fear, her hair wet, a towel over her shoulders.

"_There are so many things I want to do. … I can´t do that, when I´m dead. Call me … if you ever decide to stop chasing the psychopaths."_

Down at the funeral, the general handed Angela Petrelli the flag, saluting before her. His movements seemed sluggish, slower than they should be. Much slower. The whole world had turned to a slow-mo version of itself, as if reality had taken a gear down, to reboot. Even the sounds of the leaves over their heads sounded far away, buzzed. Shawn felt his head spinning, with all those new memories that flooded in. So many of them.

"_I broke up with Declan."_

"_Why would you do that?"_

"_Shawn."_

The general roared his order, his voice sluggish and heavy, like a tape player with low batteries, and the soldiers fired their guns. The shots rang in Shawn´s ears, shattered through his mind.

"_Look at her. Must have taken three guys to lift her up that high."_

"_This is Gabriel Gray, aka Sylar. He is the most notorious killer this city has never seen."_

"_This guy knows about you. He knows about everyone you care about." "Let´s just say you fascinate me."_

Again shots roared into the silence of the day, echoing strangely in the distance of Shawn´s mind.

"_Did they ask you about any ability of yours? They will. Do yourself a favor and don´t tell them. Don´t tell them anything about Juliet."_

"_Sometimes I wonder if he´ll ever leave us alone."_

"_We have so much in common, Shawn. I think you could be my savior." "Okay, dude. You … need help."_

"_Exactly."_

His mind seemed to shatter under the exploding roars of the guns. He saw a building that seemed familiar and strange the same time. He was sitting on a bench, watching it while pretending to read a newspaper.

"_Nice Trenchcoat." – _Noah Bennet´s face was a familiar one all the sudden – "_We´re watching you. We look away at the delicate parts."_

The face with the horn rimmed glasses was replaced by Gus´, standing in the Psych office.

"_There are people watching you, Shawn. But it´s people like me, who only want to help and protect you."_

After having said this, Gus´ face seemed to melt and transformed into Sylar´s for some reason. He was smiling at him.

One more shot.

"_Dude. It´s about time someone came to get me out of here. But I´d never imagined it to be you. You have no idea what they did to me."_

"_Don´t worry." _Sylar´s hand squeezed his shoulder, caring, like a real friend._ "I´ll get you out of here."_

"_Shawn, oh my god, are you all right?" _Juliet´s tight hug when he finally saw her again and later on Gus, who´d hugged him even tighter, if that was even possible.

"_Shawn. Thank god, you´re okay."_

And then a voice on the phone.

"_Shawn. Oh, thanks god, I didn´t know where else to call." _

_"We´re all right. Everything is just fine. Now."_

When the roaring came again it was louder and longer than the gunshots. Shawn felt the jets more than he actually saw them, passing by over their heads, performing the classical formation at a soldier´s funeral, one jet leaving the formation, symbolically soaring up to heaven.

Shawn felt his legs tremble, his body finally catching up with the spinning of his mind.

"_That´s good to know, Shawn. You guys take care of each other, okay?"_

"_You too. Thanks, buddy. For everything."_

"_Talk to you soon."_

His legs gave in and the ground came at him. Slowly. Way too slow. It felt like an eternity. And then he finally hit the ground, and all the sudden, as if this contact with the grass had been the trigger, everything switched back to normal.

The sounds he heard were not muffled anymore and the wind on his face seemed so much more real again. His head was still spinning but the same time it felt so much better now. As if he´d just reloaded himself. And wasn´t that exactly what had just happened? He guessed it was.

A gasp from Hiro cut into the silence, but a totally real and not muffled silence. Shawn turned his head and saw Suresh kneeling on the ground, right next to him, his hands digging into the grass, his head hanging low. Hiro appeared in his field of vision.

"Is everything all right?" he asked, picking him up.

Shawn could only smile. "Yes. I guess it is. Now it is."

"What just happened?" Suresh grunted. "I was … I was just …"

He looked around, totally confused, as if he didn´t even know how he´d gotten here. Shawn didn´t need to ask him, to know what he´d just been through. He´d been sitting in the same rollercoaster after all. Now the scientist looked at him as if he was the one who was supposed to have all the answers.

"Dude." Shawn spoke. "Where´s Kayleigh?"

With a wide smile on his face he watched the confused frown on Suresh´s face deepen even more.

"Who´s Kayleigh?" the scientist asked and Shawn cheered.

"Exactly, dude. Man, you´re good at this."

Of course the doctor didn´t understand, but that was all right. Hiro understood it for both of them. He gasped and smiled from ear to ear.

"That´s from Butterfly Effect." he cried excited. "You remember."

"I totally do." Shawn smiled widely. "And you …" he addressed Suresh. "Should totally watch more movies. That was a top star reference I just made."

"That means we made it." Hiro realized, happily. "We repaired the past. Yat..."

But before he could finish his victory cry, he had a hand over his mouth.

"Maybe you could keep it down, dude?" Shawn hissed with a motion at the funeral, that was still going on on the other side of the field.

The attendants would be highly irritated when the lowering of the coffin into the grave would be accompanied by a happy outcry. Hiro followed his gaze and nodded, an apologetic look in his eyes.

"Maybe we should go." Suresh suggested. "There´s nothing we can do here anymore."

"Not until tonight." Shawn agreed, watching the scientist closely.

But Mohinder didn´t object. Neither did he agree though. He merely nodded, his eyes at the distant funeral, dark and unreadable. Shawn wasn´t even sure if he´d heard what he´d said.

**...**

They came back to the graveyard at two in the morning. Shawn´s hand was tightening around the handle of the shovel. He glanced at his two comrades and wished he´d see a similar nervousness there. But he didn´t.

Hiro looked determined, as if it was totally normal for him to be on a graveyard like this, preparing to dig out a grave. And Suresh. Suresh only looked gloomy, like a bystander that was here by coincidence.

An owl cried in the distance and Shawn flinched. "Dude." he exhaled. "This is totally creepy. Like in Night of the Living Dead or something."

Hiro and Suresh looked at him, neither of them saying a word. Shawn swallowed dryly, nodding at them.

"All right." he said. "Let´s … Let´s get started."

The digging was hard and exhausting. Shawn had no idea how long they´d actually needed, but it felt like hours before his shovel finally hit the surface of the wooden coffin. Another hour passed until they´d finally managed it to get the whole thing free, free enough to get it out.

Shawn dropped the shovel and stretched his aching back. God, he was  
so glad he never decided to work as an undertaker. Next to him Hiro sat down, on the edge of the grave, for a moment, his face covered with smears of dirt and sweat and Shawn guessed he looked not much better. Suresh was standing above them, his back to the grave, while he wiped the sweat off his face.

For a moment they all were just quiet, taking deep breaths, collecting their thoughts. Even though Shawn wasn´t sure how much energy he´d left for a coherent thought. Damn, how could a normal human being do such a work for a living? He felt as if he could collapse right here and now and sleep for two weeks in a row.

"We need to get going." came Hiro´s tired voice, keeping Shawn from drifting off into a doze just in time. He met the time traveler´s gaze and nodded, gathering all his energy. Hiro nodded too.

"Okay." Shawn said, pushing himself back to his feet. He hadn´t even realized that he´d sat down. Sat down on a coffin? He forced the thought away.

"Okay, we need to get him out of there." he spoke, looking up at Suresh.

The scientist was still not looking at him. As if he was refusing to look into the grave, to acknowledge what they were doing here.

"Mohinder?" Shawn addressed him, firmly.

Finally the geneticist turned around to him. His face was blank. But it wasn´t simply tiredness Shawn read in his eyes. There was still some more, something that worried Shawn.

Eventually Mohinder nodded. His movements were reluctant when he climbed down into the grave but when he grabbed the coffin and lifted it up, his hands were steady. Without only the slightest sign of emotional attachment, he put the coffin on the edge of the grave and, using the leverage effect, shoved it out.

After the coffin stood on save ground, Mohinder leaned against the side of the grave, catching his breath. Again Shawn couldn´t see anything when he tried to read in his face. The scientist closed his eyes, as if to keep him from seeing too much, simply breathing, steadying his nerves. Or so Shawn hoped. Were his legs shaking? He couldn´t see it. It was too dark down in that grave.

He tore his eyes away from the geneticist and faced the coffin. Big and dark and waiting in the moonlight, the dirt still clinging to its surface.

"Oh, man." Shawn breathed, meeting Hiro´s eyes.

Slowly the two of them approached the coffin, almost sneaking as if afraid the cover could snap open any minute, a hand reaching out, ready to grab them. But of course that wouldn´t happen. Because that would be ridiculous. Again Shawn met Hiro´s gaze, realizing that the other man probably had had the same picture in his head.

When they realized this, they chuckled at each other. Stupid right?

Shawn took a breath. "Okay." he steeled himself. "Let´s get him out of there."

His hands grabbed the coffin and pulled. But the cover wouldn´t move. What the hell?

"Dude, do they even lock those things?" he cried. "What for? Are they afraid the dead guy will jump out before the funeral is over?"

"They didn´t want anyone to see the body." Mohinder spoke up behind him, his voice low and even. "Would have raised questions, especially about the cut on his throat."

Shawn took a step back. "Could you …?" he gestured for the coffin.

Mohinder didn´t give a response. He just went to the coffin and opened it obediently, the safety locks snapping open, revealing the pale skinned body of Nathan Petrelli. Half of his face was dented in and Shawn skipped back at the sight.

"Boahhh." he cried, facing in another direction. "What the hell?"

"The crash must have added some more damage to what was already there." Mohinder commented, still far too detached for Shawn´s taste.

"Damage?" he repeated. "Dude. That´s a human being we´re talking about. One we both know, by the way."

Mohinder answered his accusing gaze but didn´t say a word. Shawn decided to dismiss this scientist and turned back to the body in the coffin. Now after the first shock was over, it was not so bad after all.

"We can be glad they didn´t ask for an embalming." Hiro mentioned. "If they´d done …" But Shawn raised his hand to stop him.

"No details, please." he demanded, shaking his head. "This is already too much Pet Sematary we´re doing here."

"In that book it turned out to be the wrong move to disturb the peace of death." Mohinder added for consideration, looking down at the body. "Maybe we should learn something from it. It´s unnatural."

Shawn threw him a glance. "Would you say that too if that would be Nathan and not Sylar?" he asked.

Once again he got no answer. Mohinder only reached down in the coffin and carefully turned the body around, to get to the back of his head.

"Hold the flashlight." he instructed Shawn. "I need to see."

Shawn shone the light at the dead man´s head, watching fascinated how Mohinder´s hands stroke the hair aside, to find the metallic spike. It wasn´t easy to find it and for a moment Shawn wondered if it was really there. If this was even the right body. But then he spotted the fine dark line that went down to the base of the skull.

Mohinder tried to catch a hold of it, with his fingers, but found it impossible. Hiro handed him a pincer and after a brief moment of surprise, Mohinder took it. This time he caught a hold of the spike and when he pulled, the metallic thing came out of the wound, without any further resistance. Shawn grimaced at the sight. That was gross.

For a moment nothing happened. But then they could hear a sound, wet and organic, when the wound closed itself. More of these sounds followed, and slowly the whole body began to regenerate itself. The dented cheekbone reformed and became whole again and all the while Nathan´s skin began gaining some color again. Shawn was unable to turn his eyes away from it. And then the man in the coffin opened his eyes.

Shawn attempted to skip back, holding his breath. But the eyes that looked at him didn´t seem to see. For a moment Shawn could have sworn he saw him, but then … something else. A stare into a distance that wasn´t there. Dreamy. Almost peacefully. That was until Nathan´s face took on an expression of confusion, as if he was listening to something only he could hear, something he could hear but not understand. And Shawn had a faint idea what he was hearing now.

"What´s going on?" Hiro asked concerned.

Shawn shushed him gently, still not able to take his eyes off Nathan/Sylar.

"He´s remembering." he whispered. "His mind´s catching up with his body."

As if to underline this statement Nathan gasped, his body arching as if in a convulsion. And then his face melted. Deep within his throat there was a sound as if he was choking on something and Shawn was actually close to reach out for him to help, to do something to keep this man from suffocating. But then it was over and the face of Nathan Petrelli was gone, replaced by that of his killer.

Sylar´s eyes were closed. Was he even conscious? Shawn leaned over him, reaching for his shoulder.

"Careful." Suresh warned but too late.

Sylar´s eyes shot open and immediately fixed on Shawn. A second later Shawn had an iron hand around his throat.

"You." Sylar rasped, eyes on fire.

"Dude." Shawn managed it to croak.

"No." Hiro cried. "Don´t. You´re not supposed to be the brain man anymore."

Sylar sat up, totally ignoring Hiro and Suresh. His whole attention was on Shawn.

"You." he repeated, a snarly smile on his lips. "You tricked me. And stabbed me in the back."

"Well … technically it was him who stabbed you." Shawn pointed at Hiro, who flinched under Sylar´s sudden stare.

"But it was your trick." the killer insisted, turning back to Shawn. He shook his head. "I must admit that was one hell of a speech you gave me there. You didn´t even lie, did you?"

"No." Shawn coughed briefly. "No, I meant every word of it."

Sylar narrowed his eyes for a moment, nodding. Then he smiled and Shawn began to laugh.

"And you …" he pointed at Sylar. "You so need to stop doing this, dude."

Finally the hand around his throat loosened and instead of hurting him, gently padded his cheek.

Hiro threw up his arms at once when he saw this.

"Yataaaa!" he cried, smiling widely, and this time he didn´t flinch when Sylar turned to look at him.

Shawn gave Sylar a hand, helping him out of the coffin and Sylar´s eyes darted sideways. To Mohinder.

For a moment the silence on the graveyard seemed to be heavier than before, just the slightest ounce, but Shawn could feel the difference anyway. The happy smile on the killer´s face hadn´t faltered for nothing.

"Mohinder." he nodded at the scientist, uncertain. "It´s me."

The other man nodded, his jaw clenched. "I know who you are." he said, nothing more, his voice almost indifferent. Almost.

**...**

"What do we do now, Shawn?" Sylar asked after he´d filled the grave again, telekinetically.

"We can go back home now." Hiro spoke before Shawn had the chance, performing a dignified bow. "Fate has found its way. Now it´s time to save Matt Parkman´s family."

"Yeah, just one more thing." Shawn raised a finger. "I still need to do something before we can go. And I need your help for that." he pointed at Sylar "You need to tell me where that spot in your head is located. You know which one I mean."

Sylar frowned uncertain. "But … you already stabbed me there. I thought you know."

Shawn could only shrug. "That´s the problem with all these time paradoxes. Not even an eidetic memory can get past this. Ask Doc Brown. I can´t know about this spot before someone tells me. And since it´s your head we´re talking about …"

"I shell tell you where the lime leaf landed on my back, Hagen?"

"What?"

Sylar smiled, lowering his eyes for a moment. "Never mind."

Shawn threw a glance at the other two but didn´t get anything from them. Hiro was as lost as he and Mohinder was just incommunicado.

Shawn dismissed it and went on, letting Sylar show him the spot he needed, including it into the last text message he had to send, before they could finally go back to the future.

"Okay and now only one more and we can go." he mumbled after he sent it, already writing again. Hiro went to his toes, to look over his shoulder.

"Do not open until you are …" he halted and looked at him, irritated. "Until you´re a hyperactive idiot?"

"In 2013." Shawn added. "Don´t forget the time."

"But … what kind of instruction is that?"

"One that only I can understand when the time is up."

"And you think you will wait until that moment, before you read the message?"

Shawn snorted. "God, no. I know I didn´t. But I couldn´t understand what the message said before that moment was there and when it came … I remembered. Don´t worry. It´ll work just fine. I mean … it did. Let´s not get lost in word games."

He sent the message and when his cell phone told him it was done, he nodded.

"Now we can go."


	15. Back to the Future

**Back to the Future**

The first thing Hiro saw when they appeared in the hallway before the honeymoon suite, was the camera under the ceiling, the lens pointed directly at them. The happy smile on his face, painted there by the excitement over their return, vanished at this sight. A live teleportation in front of a camera was never a good thing.

"Oh, boy." he exhaled, and his shoulders dropped.

It was nothing but a subtle gesture when Sylar raised his hand but Hiro could see Mohinder stir, preparing for whatever the killer might do. Shawn´s action was a little faster, but much less afraid. He simply lay a hand on Sylar´s arm to keep him from his action.

"No, don´t." he said, absolutely calm. "Bennet hotwired the system, remember? Means he´s the only one who can see us."

Mohinder huffed, quietly. "If he´s alive that is."

"Well." Shawn frowned, shrugging to signal indifference. "I remember that he is, so why shouldn´t he?"

Mohinder's eyes were dark when he answered. "Memories can be deceiving."

"Seriously?" Shawn cried, finally giving up his try to ignore the scientist´s stubbornness.

"Maybe we should just check if …" Hiro started but was ignored.

"Why do you always have to make everything so complicated?" Shawn demanded to know.

"I´m a scientist." Mohinder answered. "Being skeptical is a given." And with a side glance at Sylar he added: "At least it should be."

Sylar, standing between all this, didn´t give a response to this dare. It was obvious that everything he could say would only result in more heated discussions. The heavy silence that came with their staredown, was proof enough of this.

Hiro had never been someone to flee a confrontation – except with his sister – but here, he decided to bolt. When he was at the door to the honeymoon suite, the three contestants were still discussing. Hiro cleared his throat, his hand on the door.

"Does anyone want to join me?" he asked, and entered the suite before either of them had a chance to respond. He didn´t want to hear any more arguments from them.

He entered the suite carefully, knowing that a door that wasn´t locked could be dangerous for the one who stepped through it. But no one inside the suite tried to attack him, the intruder. They only turned around to him, startled. As if he´d interrupted something much more confusing than an unexpected visitor.

Hiro smiled, nodding at them politely, to apologize for his unasked entrance. He could see the two detectives, Lassiter and O´Hara, Shawn´s friend Gus and … Noah Bennet, who fixed him, highly irritated.

"Yataaa!" Hiro cried, throwing up his arms.

When Noah Bennet was alive, then Peter Petrelli and the Cheerleader had to be too. And that meant the timeline was fixed. They´d made it.

"Well, that sounds promising." he heard Shawn Spencer´s voice behind him.

"Shawn." Juliet O´Hara was in the process of darting over to him. Until she saw the dirt all over him, in his face, his ripped clothing. "Oh god, what happened to you?"

"Have you guys been digging in a coal mine?" Gus asked, eying the three of them warily, while Juliet´s hands carefully examined Shawn, for injuries.

When she touched his cheek, he flinched. Not much, just a little and almost unable to see at all. But for Hiro it stood out very clearly. And obviously it did so for Juliet O´Hara as well.

"Are you all right?" she asked, uncertain.

Shawn studied her face, as if he hadn´t seen her in years, only for a moment. His hand closed around hers.

"Sure." he said. "I´m fine."

"You sure?" she asked, frowning deeply.

"Yeah." he assured her, still studying her face. He chuckled. "That´s … weird."

There was something in Juliet O´Hara´s eyes, that made Hiro think, she knew what had happened to Shawn. Or at least guessed it. Guessed something. Something too strong to actually face it. Something that if you ever really knew the whole truth of it, would haunt you to the day you died. And so she didn´t ask. And maybe that was good.

"Shawn." his friend spoke up, ending that weird moment. "Where the hell have you been?"

Shawn looked at him, a hesitant smile gracing his lips.

"Dude." he chuckled again, shaking his head. "You wouldn´t believe me if I told you. I know people say that all the time but … dude, you wouldn´t believe me if I told you."

"Oh, I´d say I´m ready to believe quiet a lot today." Noah Bennet stepped forward. He threw a glance at Sylar and Mohinder before turning to Hiro, nodding at him briefly. "Hiro. I´m glad you´re alive. Would you mind telling me how this … is possible?" and with that he pointed behind himself, at a screen, standing on a table full of machines and computers.

Nathan Petrelli was on that screen, speaking into a microphone, as if he was holding a press conference. Hiro almost forgot how to breath.

"What is he doing?" Shawn Spencer cried, as baffled as Hiro.

"Telling the world about a conspiracy." Bennet told them, watching them closely. "A conspiracy that covered up his fake death, the way I understood it. But that can´t be, can it?" The Company man looked at their group with asking eyes. "Why do I have the feeling that you guys know more than we do? The fact that you don´t seem surprised that Nathan is alive, makes me feel very paranoid, Hiro."

Hiro raised both brows, feeling very awkward all the sudden. As if they´d been caught, doing something forbidden, like a bunch of bad kids. But wasn´t that exactly what had happened? They´d been playing around (not by choice but that was beside the point) and had screwed up history.

"It´s a long story." he told them at last.

"But it is one we have to tell later." Mohinder spoke up, stepping forward. "Right now we have a mission to finish. Janice Parkman is still waiting for us. We should go and get her, while they´re busy down there." He gestured for the screen, one hand already laying on Hiro´s shoulder.

"I´ll go with you." Sylar said, but Mohinder denied the offer with a hard gaze.

"No." he said, simple and plain. "Hiro and I will do that." And without even waiting for a response from Sylar, he turned back to Hiro. "Let´s go."

The time traveler threw a glance around, knowing exactly what had just happened. But in the end he obeyed. What choice did he have anyway? So he shut his eyes and focused, on getting himself and Mohinder down to the cellar of this building. They had two lives to save after all.

After the two of them had disappeared into thin air, Noah Bennet stepped forward, regarding the two men left behind, Sylar and Shawn.

"I can´t tell you how anxious I am to hear what happened."

**...**

When Janice Parkman heard the sounds outside her door, her mind was set. Every thought that spurted through her head was about one thing. Survival. Her son´s, not hers. Although he would need her to get out and away from here. But if this would mean that she had to carry him to a police station while dying from internal bleeding after the guards shot her, she would do it. It was the only thing she could do.

Another noise from outside. As if one of the guards had stumbled on the way to her cell. Thoughts of getting rescued were out of her system. She´d considered it at the beginning, hoped for it, dreamed about it, only to wake up in that tiny little room again, still incarcerated, still unable to protect Mattie from these men. Knowing that they would not let them go, no matter what Matt did out there on their demand.

She´d never really believed that these people would let them go, letting possible witnesses walk free to tell the police what they´d done, to identify them. Not after this woman had talked to her personally. The mastermind behind this insane plan, a plan she hadn´t told Janice, but Janice knew people like her. She´d worked with them and she knew to recognize insanity when she saw it.

Whatever this woman Shana wanted Matt to do, she would let neither of them go to tell the world.

That was the reason why she was standing behind the door now, one of the two trashy chairs in her hand, ready to use it against the guard. It was not important if he came to bring them their food or to shoot them. She would not wait to find out.

She threw a checking glance at the three year old behind her. Mattie looked up at her, his eyes asking, worried, understanding. They´d talked about this long enough and Janice trusted him to know what she expected from him.

"Always stay behind me." she´d told him. "When I run, you run. When I tell you to keep running, you keep running. Reach the elevator. Activate it. I know you can do it. And when it opens you get in. With or without me. It will bring you upstairs. If you get there without me, you keep running. Run out until you find a police officer. You know how they look. They look like Daddy on the old photos. Let no one else take you, you understand?"

And he´d nodded, a sad, heartbreaking look in his wet eyes. But he´d nodded. And he would follow her order, she knew it. He would get out. No matter how, he would get out. He would survive this. And knowing that was enough. Enough to make her fingers hold tightly around the chair in her hands, when the lock was turned and the door opened.

Janice didn´t wait for the man to finish his turn, to see her, to see it coming. She swung the chair and crashed it over his head. The man went down with a surprised grunt and Janice ran, over him and out of the door. The second guard was right outside. She collided with him, ripping him off his feet and they hit the ground together.

"Run, Mattie, RUN!" she shouted, struggling to get up, one hand reaching out for the man next to her. "To the elevator." she instructed her son.

She was at her knees now, ready to fight the guard and hold him off, long enough for Mattie to reach the elevator. But the guard didn´t attack her. Instead he held out both hands, as if to defend himself.

"No, no." an uncharacteristically high voice cried. "We´re here to save you."

Janice halted. Her mind was racing, her panting so loud in her head that it drowned out almost everything. What had he said? Save them? Her hands were standing in mid-air while her mind tried to compute with this unexpected change in the situation. She knew she´d seen this man before. Small, Japanese, friendly smile. But she just couldn´t place him. Just couldn´t make up her mind that someone like that could actually be here, right now.

"It´s all right." the man with the gentle smile told her in a thick Japanese accent. "You´re save now."

And suddenly she recognized him. From one moment to the other she knew that they were save. That this man had saved the life of her child once already and that he´d come to save it again. And in this moment, something inside of her just cracked and she flung herself at him, hugging him tightly, sobbing against his shoulder.

"Thank you. Oh, god, thank you. Thank you."

The small hands of her son nudged at her own rocking shoulder and when she let go of this hero that had come to save them, she saw little Mattie again, his eyes wet and uncertain. He didn´t understand why his Mommy was crying.

Janice embraced him at once, holding him tightly, protectively, still not able to stop crying herself.

"Oh, no, don´t cry." she told her son, rubbing his back. "Don´t cry, Matti, it´s over. It´s over. It´s over."

**...**

Bennet threw a glance through the bedroom door, where Hiro and detective O´Hara comforted Janice Parkman, who was still recovering from the hysterics she´d had. He met Juliet´s eyes when the detective glanced up for a moment.

The way it looked, the poor woman was getting better, slowly, but she´d stopped clinging to her son as if he would fall apart as soon as she let go. Now Hiro was holding the kid, laughing at him, like they were old friends who hadn´t seen each other for years, while Juliet quietly spoke to the mother.

"I´m fine." Noah heard the harsh voice of Dr. Suresh behind him and turned back to the rest of their group, just in time to catch the cold glare the doctor shot the killer next to him.

The geneticist was holding an icepack to his head, where Janice Parkman had hit him with the chair, but other than that he seemed fine indeed. Better than Bennet could remember him in years.

It was a strange story Shawn and Sylar had told them so far, and even if it had been very rough in the details, Noah had a feeling that some more interesting changes had happened, than just a newly resurrected Nathan Petrelli. He couldn´t say he would regret it if Suresh´s opinion about a few things finally started to change into a more reasonable direction, especially when it concerned that killer.

"What are we doing now?" Guster wanted to know, getting straight to the point once again, just as Noah had learned to expect it from him.

"I´m going down." Mohinder decided at once. "Talking to Matt."

"No way, doctor." Bennet immediately denied, stepping forward to block his way.

"He needs to know that his family is save." the geneticist insisted.

"I agree." Noah nodded, throwing him off base with that. "Only it will be hard to get to him. They left. While you were down there, rescuing Janice. Right after Nathan finished his speech. Probably to avoid further questions from the reporters. And we have no idea where they went."

"Then …" Suresh looked around rather helpless. "What do we do now?"

Surprisingly it was Shawn Spencer, the overgrown kid, that stepped forward and spoke.

"First we have to take care of the hostages." he decided, his voice sounding serious for a change. "And we need to decamp before they figure out we´re still here."

When the young man noticed all the surprised eyes on him, he halted.

"What?" he cried. "If they come up here and we´re still here, it´ll get messy, wouldn´t it?"

Noah couldn´t help but smiled. Some interesting changes indeed, he thought to himself.

Carlton seemed to agree with him. He nodded at the fake psychic approvingly.

"He´s right." he said.

"We don´t know how many of the hotel staff is in on the whole kidnapping." Gus recalled. "How do we get the two of them past the lobby without getting seen?"

Noah glanced back over his shoulder into the bedroom. Janice Parkman had calmed down by now, quietly talking to Juliet. And in this moment Noah made a decision.

"We don´t." he answered Guster´s question. "I say we just walk out, with them in plain sight. Let them know we have them. They can´t do anything."

**...**

The hotel staff was indeed watching them, when they passed the lobby. Only it was hard to tell if it was because they really recognized Janice and her son as the hostages that were supposed to be in a locked room in the cellar. Or maybe just because they made a big camel lacking camel train, walking out in a closed formation like this.

All the way to the cars, parked right outside the front door, Janice Parkman was holding tightly to her son, her eyes darting around, to everybody who crossed their way or even followed them with their eyes. But no one, not even the hotel manager, made a move to stop them. Noah´d been right. Whatever had happened in this hotel, it was over. Miss Stockwell´s plan, whatever it was, had been moved away from it, along with Nathan Petrelli and Matt Parkman.

Juliet opened the door for Janice to get in the car but the mother hesitated for another moment, her eyes following Shawn and Gus, mostly Sylar.

"Please, Mrs. Parkman, get in." Juliet told her gently. "We need to leave."

"Where do we go?" Janice wanted to know, her eyes not looking away from Sylar.

"Some place save."

"Will he be there too?"

Juliet turned around, as if she didn´t know already who she was talking about. She sighed.

"Don´t worry." she said. "We´ll protect you from them. You´ll be save."

"You know this man´s a murderer?" Janice informed her, not really asking.

Juliet met Lassiter´s eyes, over the roof of the car, begging for his support.

"As my partner said." he spoke to Janice Parkman, his voice calm and reassuring. "You´ll be save."

**...**

The place was crowded. People were running around, carrying luggage, looking for the right gate or something else they were missing, bags and luggage, creating a big mess of faces and forms. Enough for them to blend in, even with all the men Shana had with her, to guard her precious trophy.

Nathan stood beside her, quietly, his head bowed down a little, under the brim of his hat, as if he truly had to make sure no one would recognize him. But that was exactly what he must believe, right? Matt had made sure of it.

Because being unsuspicious was crucial for the plan. Whatever the whole plan was. Shana sure as hell hadn´t told him. But Matt didn´t care about the plan. He cared about something else. Steeling himself for the inevitable confrontation, he approached Shana.

"I wanna talk to you." he demanded. "Alone."

Shana looked up from her purse, stopping to rummage for a moment. There was a silent surprise on her face but she followed him when he walked a few steps aside.

"I´m not coming with you." he told her as soon as they were out of ear shot from the others.

A tiny frown appeared on her forehead, as if he´d said something totally out of context.

"What are you talking about, of course you´re coming with us." she said and turned her attention back to her purse.

"No." he insisted. "I want my family. Now."

She looked up at him again, the ticket she´d been looking for in her hand. The glance she gave him was estimating, but not really considering. She obviously didn´t doubt the power she had over him, not for a single moment.

"I know you kept them at the hotel." he blurred, desperately wanting her to know she didn´t have half the control she thought she had. "In the cellar." he specified his knowledge. "So now we´ll be driving back there and you´ll …"

"How do you want to know where they are?" Shana interrupted him, irritatingly calm. "No one here knows that. Not even I."

Matt only shook his head. "Doesn´t matter. I know. And I want them back."

Again she looked at him with this estimating look of hers. Still far too confident for Matt´s taste.

"You have a nice imagination, Mr. Parkman." she found. "But if this is true and you really know their location, why did you leave with us? Why didn´t you stay to rescue them?"

Matt looked into those insane blue eyes, and gritted his teeth, knowing that he couldn´t say anything, not if he wanted to keep his dignity. To win that conversation was not an issue anymore as it seemed. And that after only a few minutes.

Shana smiled at him, victoriously. She nodded.

"Exactly." she said, as if he´d given her an answer. "For the same reason why you will get into that plane with us. Because you know exactly what happens if you should violate our agreement."

"I did what you asked me to." Matt burst out. "Now it´s your turn."

"Unfortunately, Mr. Parkman, your friend Hiro didn´t think it necessary to stay with us any longer." Shana idly closed the zipper of her purse. "So he didn´t quiet keep up his part of the bargain."

"Okay, maybe not." Matt found it harder and harder to stay in his place. "But I did. You owe me. At least stand to your words."

"Oh, I will." she assured him. "As soon as we´re done."

"We _are_ done."

Instead of being intimidated by his intense glare, Shana merely smiled at him. Worse, she smiled at him like one would smile at a stubborn kid.

"You know better than that." she said and when she heard the frustration coming from deep within his throat, she lay an almost caring hand on his arm. "Don´t worry." she told him. "You´ll get your family back. As soon as our mission is accomplished."

Matt couldn´t help the humorless smirk that came over him.

"Maybe Hiro already freed them." he suggested a possibility. "Maybe you don´t have anything to make me stay any longer."

"In that case I would have gotten a call from my men by now." Shana replied unimpressed, her brows raised in total innocence. "Telling me what happened."

"Maybe they´re dead." Matt suggested but she merely smirked, amused about this idea.

"Your friend Hiro would kill my guards to free the hostages?" she asked mockingly. When he didn´t answer, she smiled again. "I didn´t think so."

She got her cell phone out of her purse, holding it up for him to see it.

"But maybe you want me to give them a call, just to make sure." she suggested as if this offer was generous and not a threat. Her false surprise about his reaction, almost drove him crazy.

"No?" she asked as if she didn´t know and then gasped. "Oh, right. I forgot. Every call from me or any of my men that contains any other message than to shoot the hostages … would end with them shooting the hostages." she summarized, as if she truly just remembered the threat she´d made, right from the start.

She made a snatching sound with her cheek, mocking annoyance. "Because they´d know we were forced to say something against our will." she finished the speech, and when she faced him this time, she didn´t pretend any longer. Instead she tilted her head, looking at him almost enigmatic.

"I´m disappointed in you, Parkman." she said. "You´ve been doing good so far. On your wife and on your son." She put the phone back into her purse, obviously guessing, and guessing right, that she´d won. "Don´t put all this at risk now." she advised him. "We´re almost at our target."

After she´d closed her purse again, her eyes could have been mistaken for being sympathetic.

"Don´t worry." she again lay a hand on his arm. "You´ll get your family back. After the mission is over."

The caring hand let go and padded him one last time.

"Now come on." she said with a smile. "The plane´s waiting."

* * *

**Hey, people. You ever heard the saying, the applause (respectively the review) is bread for the artist? So don´t let me starve here, okay? Let me know if I´m doing good.**


	16. Family Ties

**Family Ties**

When Peter entered the hospital this morning he was almost too late for his shift. Almost. He overslept a little, only fifteen minutes but it used up too much of his time for his liking. Now he was late and when he slipped into the locker room, he noticed a bunch of people in the waiting area, standing before the TV. He shouldn´t understand why, until he got back out five minutes later.

Emma was already waiting for him, in the hallway, an expression on her face as if she´d seen a ghost.

"What is it?" he asked, with a frown but she didn´t seem able to give him an answer.

Her mouth opened but closed again, helplessly. Instead of giving an answer she dragged him behind – her hand was shaking, he noticed – to the waiting area. To the small TV in the corner.

Peter was so confused by his friend and her odd behavior, that he didn´t see the news at once. But then he heard it. A voice he hadn´t heard in years. A voice from a long gone past. He turned to the screen and his mouth dropped open.

His brother was on TV. His dead brother. Peter´s first thought that this has to be a tape, didn´t stand a closer inspection. No, this was now. This was no old recorded speech of his brother from the days when he was running for Senator. This was today. And Nathan – Nathan! – spoke of of a conspiracy. A cover up surrounding his fake death.

A young reporter summarized Nathan´s story, once again. Something Nathan must have been telling the world somewhere in a hotel, yesterday. Dear god, yesterday. Why hadn´t they heard of that earlier?

Nothing of this made any sense. This reporter claimed that a) Nathan was alive and that he b) accused the government of being part of a conspiracy. A conspiracy that faked his death and held him captive, for these last three years. Now that he´d been freed by a group of people who would remain unnamed, he demanded an investigation, to uncover the truth and to bring the people responsible to justice.

Peter could only stand there, numb, shaking his head to get rid of the dizziness that washed over him. This was impossible. Nathan was dead. This couldn´t be him. A conspiracy? Cover ups? Peter knew about all the cover ups that had surrounded his brother´s death. He´d been there. He´d seen his brother´s body. He´d buried him.

A ringing sound made him jump and he answered his phone automatically, without thinking. Which was a good thing, because coherent thinking was not an issue for him right now. At least until he heard the excited voice of his mother.

"Peter."

"I know." he had no idea how he could be ahead of her that fast, but he was. "I know, I just saw it." His brain switched back into gear and he turned away from the TV, determined to get an answer. "What the hell is this, Mom?" he demanded to know.

"I swear to you I have nothing to do with this." Angela immediately claimed. "I´m as shocked over this as you are. Your brother is dead, we both know that."

"Then who the hell is that?"

"I don´t know. But I might have an idea who could tell us."

"Who?"

"Matt Parkman."

"What?" Peter´s mind went racing, back to the phone call that had asked Mohinder and Sylar for help. To Molly, who´d tried to find them, only to find that she couldn´t. Again he shook his head.

"But Matt is …"

"He stood behind Nathan or whoever tries to impersonate him." his mother talked over him. "You didn´t see him?"

"No, I didn´t see him." Peter snapped. "I was focused on my dead brother standing on a stage, talking to the world."

"But I saw him." came the composed answer from his mother. "He was there and that means he knows some more than we do. I suggest that we contact him."

Peter just couldn´t believe what he heard. "Matt is dead." he recalled, already walking, heading back for the locker room. "Molly said …"

"I know what the girl said." he was interrupted once again. "She´s bailing her eyes out, ever since Dr. Suresh left her under my care. But I know what I saw, Peter. Matt Parkman is alive. And if he is … then I assume Hiro Nakamura is too."

Peter stopped dead in his tracks at this. Hiro. Molly had told them he was nowhere to be found. But Hiro could time travel and Molly´s ability couldn´t track someone through time. Of course. Oh, god, did this mean …?

"Mom?"

"Not over the phone. You need to come home. Now."

And for the first time in quiet a while, Peter agreed with his mother without hesitation.

"I´m on my way." he promised and hung up before she could give another response.

**...**

When he got home, he expected everything but not to be greeted by a gathering. His mother was the one opening the door, but it was the group of people behind her that immediately earned his attention.

Mohinder was there, Molly by his side and Hiro.

"Mom." Peter barely managed it to acknowledge his mother´s presence, before turning to the others. "Hiro." he said, as if speaking out the name made it more real and easier to face. "So it is true. You guys are alive."

He turned his head, to look at Mohinder and he immediately knew that this would be a long story.

"They just arrived." his mother told him, answering his gaze. "A few minutes before your arrival."

He nodded, ready to hear whatever it might be. "Tell me." he demanded. "What´s going on? This man I saw on TV … that´s not my brother, right?"

A shadow ran over the geneticist´s face, like hidden guilt.

"It _is_ Nathan, Peter."

Peter felt numb, all over again. He would have accepted anything, from a shapeshifter like Sylar to an illusionist, even a cloning experiment would have sounded more possible than this. But Nathan? The real Nathan? Alive?

"How?" was all he could muster.

"That´s a long story." Mohinder hesitated. "Maybe we should sit down?"

After they´d taken their seats around the kitchen table, Peter just sat there and listened. He listened to their stories, stories about blackmail and time travel and butterflies that had been undone. And all the sudden his dead brother was supposed to be back to life and he was supposed to accept this. What the hell had happened since he´d gone to bed yesterday?

When they were finished it was quiet. Every gaze was on him now, waiting for his reaction. He cleared his throat, doing his best to give them some kind of response.

"So you´re telling me that … that the man I buried …" but he just couldn´t bring himself to finish that sentence. Because finishing it would mean that all this was real. But it couldn´t. It was too obscure. Too … unbelievable.

"That is quiet a story, gentlemen." Angela agreed with him. "I hope you realize that."

"But it is true." Hiro insisted, sounding almost insulted. "As true as I sit here."

"How?" Peter heard himself ask, once again. "I mean … why?"

"That´s why we came here." Mohinder replied. "To figure that out. Do you know a woman named Shana Stockwell?" he asked, briefly turning around to Angela. "She said she´s an old friend of Nathan."

Peter saw his mother´s eyes drop for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Shana, of course. What about her?"

"She´s the one who made us do all this." Hiro blurred.

"I remember the name too." Peter spoke, more to himself. "She used to work for Senator … what was his name?"

"Archer." Angela recalled. "Shana was a secretary. Her influence on politics was limited to her influence on Archer. I don´t see how she could have done anything like what you described."

"But she did." Hiro insisted. "Believe me."

Peter shook his head in irritation. "Why?"

"She had a sister." Hiro told him. "A sister who died. We think she wants revenge for her death."

"Janice Parkman told us, she spoke to Shana once." Mohinder explained. "Right after they captured her. Unfortunately this is the only kind of information we´ve got. And we don´t know what kind of revenge Shana wants. This whole court thing they started … it doesn´t make any sense."

As if she wanted to flee the situation, Angela shoved her chair back and stood up, walking through the kitchen in deep concern.

"It does if you see the whole picture." she said, her eyes far away as if she saw something in the distance that no one else could know.

"What picture?" Peter demanded an explanation.

"Their plan." she said, without turning back to them. "What they try to do."

Peter still didn´t understand what his mother was talking about, but he knew that look on her face. It didn´t mean anything good. The persistent back she kept turned on them only intensified this feeling.

"Mom?" he asked, almost scared to hear that revelation.

"What do they want?" Mohinder asked, his voice heavy, from the same fear Peter felt.

Eventually Angela turned back around, to face them. Her eyes were hard, showing the well known grim determination, that Peter had learned to fear. Because experience had taught him, that it took a lot to get her to that place. His mother was scared. Scared of something she knew but couldn´t change. And then she spoke.

"Killing the President. That´s what they want. Better yet …" she took a breath. "Nathan … He´s supposed to kill the President. That´s what this is supposed to accomplish. I have no idea why or how. I only know that he will be the one who kills him."

There was a heavy silence after she´d finished. Peter exchanged a brief glance with Mohinder.

"A dream?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. His mother nodded.

"Last night. I thought for a change it was just a weird dream. After all how could it be real?" She smiled, briefly. "Nathan was dead. But now …"

Once again silence filled the room. And once again it was Peter who broke it.

"I need to talk to him." he decided. "No matter what Matt did with his mind, if I can just talk to him …"

"I´m not sure if that´s a good idea." Mohinder interrupted. "You know how strong Matt´s suggestions can be. He wouldn´t believe you."

"I have to try." Peter insisted and his tone didn´t leave a choice for Mohinder, whether he wanted to answer or not: "Where is he?"

Mohinder exchanged a glance with Hiro, asking for his opinion. Neither of them spoke a word, but eventually the two of them sighed, almost simultaneously and turned to Molly.

She understood the request at once and closed her eyes. Focusing. Searching.

"He´s in Washington." she said at last.

"Who?" Peter asked. "Matt or Nathan?"

"Both of them. They´re together. There are other people too. Lots of other people."

Peter met Mohinder's gaze again, warning him, about what might happen. But Peter couldn´t care about this. Not if it was about his brother. Not if there really was a chance.

"Where is that?" he asked Molly.

The girl frowned, eyes closed, and moved her head, as if she was looking around a place only she could see. When she found it, she sighed in frustration.

"FBI headquarters." she told them.

Again Peter met gazes from all directions, asking him to be reasonable.

"Won´t be too easy to get to them, as long as they´re there." Mohinder spoke it out.

"Don´t care. I have to try."

And before the other one even knew what happened, he´d reached out and touched Hiro´s hand, long enough for his power to flow into his system.

"I´m his brother." Peter stated, as if that explained everything. He faced his mother. "They´ll let me through to him."

Angela held his gaze, forcing a smile.

"I hope you´re right, Peter. But please remember that he´s not the man you knew. Dr. Suresh is right, Matt Parkman´s suggestions can be very powerful."

"Don´t worry, Mom." Peter stood up. "I won´t forget that."

"Let us come with you." Hiro cried, jumping up from his seat, eagerly.

"No." Peter denied, gently raising his hand. "I better do this alone. If we all show up there, it´ll raise too much attention. I´ll go alone."

He met the gaze of his mother again, composed and strong. And yet he could see the worry behind her eyes, well hidden, but not to him. Never to him.

"Be careful, Peter." she said. "I have a bad feeling about all this."

"So do I." he agreed with her, taking a step back from the table, to prepare for the leap. "Wish me luck." he said and then he closed his eyes.

**...**

He found himself in an allay just across the street from FBI headquarters. His right foot was soaking wet in an instant and Peter raised it, out of the puddle, with a grunt of disgust. Great. Damn he hated it to teleport after such a long time without practice.

He didn´t take the time to pour it out, but crossed the street, determined and entered the building. Once inside, the sound his wet shoe made was much louder in his ears, but he ignored it.

"Can I help you, sir?" the young desk sergeant addressed him.

"Yeah." he replied. "My name´s Peter Petrelli. I´d like to speak to my brother. Nathan Petrelli." He noticed the funny look she gave him and hurried to add: "I heard that he was here."

Instead of telling him where to go, she exchanged a glance with a security guard nearby.

"You heard that." she repeated warily.

"Yeah." Peter confirmed, pretending he hadn´t seen her glance to the guard. "Can I speak with him? It´s really important."

Another glance was exchanged between her and the guard. This time Peter didn´t try to pretend he hadn´t noticed.

"Just a second." she said and took the phone.

Peter waited. In the corner of his eye he could see the guards, getting word over their headsets, of how to proceed. They moved in on him, hands on their guns.

"Sir." one of them addressed him. "I need you to take your hands behind your head."

Peter turned around to face him. "What?" he asked, looking intentionally irritated.

"You´re under arrest." the man informed him.

"What?" this time his irritation was real. "What for?"

"Your brother informed us about your possible involvement in the conspiracy to make him vanish and fake his death."

For a moment Peter thought he´d lost his speech. "That´s … ridiculous." he mustered at last. "Where is he? I want to talk to him."

"Right now you might wanna talk to a lawyer." the security guard replied dryly. "Please, don´t make me tase you. Just raise your hands behind your head and come quietly."

Peter scoffed but eventually obeyed, taking his hands up for the guard to cuff him.

"I want to see Nathan." he repeated his demand as they led him away.

"We´ll see." was all the answer he got.

**...**

Several stories above, an agent hurried out of the elevator and into the bullpen, where several people were gathered, as if attempting a briefing. A briefing that was actually going for several hours now. The agent stepped forward.

"Sir. We´ve just arrested Peter Petrelli." he informed his superior. "He asked to see the senator."

Nathan Petrelli looked emotionally attached for a moment. That moment passed and he turned to agent Ewing, with an inscrutable expression.

"I told he´d come here." he said.

Ewing nodded. "Good work." he praised the agent, who´d delivered the message. "Now that we have him, it´ll only be a matter of time until we find the rest of them too."

"If he even knows the others." Mary Lightly spoke up, chewing on a tuna fish. "Experience shows that most of these organizations live from anonymity. Only a few members know of each other, so if one should get caught, he can´t give away the whole group."

"We know all that." Ewing informed the small profiler, eying him disapprovingly.

"I want to talk to him." Nathan Petrelli demanded, startling everybody in the room.

"I don´t think that´s a good idea." the blonde woman by his side spoke up, laying a hand on his arm.

"I know." he agreed with her. "But he´s my brother. I need to know why he did it."

He faced agent Ewing, demanding without words to be led to where Peter was hold, and the FBI agent nodded, already in the process of leading the way.

"Parkman." Shana Stockwell spoke, her tone desperate, demanding.

The addressed man, stepped in Nathan Petrelli´s way but he didn´t say a word, only looked at him. The senator stopped in his tracks, hesitating, as if thinking.

"Maybe it would be better to wait until tomorrow though." he spoke at last, frowning deeply as if trying to figure out what he just said. Eventually he nodded, to himself. "Ehm, you might wanna sedate him, agent Ewing." he added, as if this thought just occurred to him.

Ewing raised both brows. "Sedating him?" he repeated. "That´s highly unorthodox."

"Trust me." Petrelli replied with the most serious expression. "Peter can be really … tricky. You don´t want him to get away, do you?"

Ewing studied the senator´s face for a moment, unsure what to make of this. He noticed the other man, Parkman, looking at him, and turned to face him, intending to ask him … ask him … yeah what exactly?

He´d forgotten.

He faced Petrelli again and then he remembered. Of course, the younger brother. He needed to be sedated. So he wouldn´t escape. Of course. It was so obvious. Ewing had no idea how he could have forgotten something as crucial as this. Must be the double shifts, he mused.

**...**

"I found her." Juliet cried from behind Henry Spencer´s old computer. The others immediately started to gather around her. "Shana Stockwell." she read off the information she´d found. "General attendant of a senator Daniel Archer. Graduated from Harvard University. Her record is totally clean, not even a ticket for false parking."

"Any known siblings?" Lassiter asked, leaning on her seat to look over her shoulder.

"One. A sister. Emily Stockwell. She was reported missing five years ago. The case was never solved. No one ever raised a pledge, she just … vanished. … Here´s a picture."

Everybody seemed to bow forward a little, to see the photo better. But it was only one reaction that caught her attention. And not only hers.

"Noah?" Lassiter frowned at the paling of the Company man.

Bennet´s eyes were still on the picture on Juliet´s screen.

"Do you know her?" she asked him.

"I met her once." he nodded. "Only one time … before she died."

"What happened?"

"A plane crash happened."

"A plane crash." Lassiter repeated, not sure what to do with this answer.

Bennet nodded. "It was a transport plane. A group of people with abilities were about to be transported to a holding facility."

"People like him?" Lassiter asked, pointing at Sylar.

The killer had kept his distance so far. He was leaning against the couch, watching them quietly.

"No." Bennet denied. "Normal people. Normal besides the fact that they had supernatural abilities."

"Did they commit any sort of crimes?" Gus asked with a frown.

"No."

"Did they get a trial?"

"No."

"Then why were they on that plane?"

"Because they were different, Guster." Bennet burst out at last. "That´s why. That´s the only reason why we did this."

"We. So you were a part of all this?" Gus snapped. "You rounded people up and locked them away just because they were different?" When Bennet only looked at him, he shook his head. "You racist bastard." he growled. "People like you should be the ones that get locked away like that."

He was about to grab Bennet´s collar, but Lassiter stepped between them, just in time.

"Wow. Stand back, Guster, all right?" he demanded and when he was sure Gus would stand down, he turned his head to Noah. "Is that true?" he demanded to know.

"It is." the Company man admitted and Gus would have tried to grab him again, if it hadn´t been for Lassiter.

"It was a government program." Bennet started an explanation. "And you can believe me that I was not there by choice."

"So what?" Gus snapped. "You were just following orders?"

"Exactly. I had a daughter to protect, a daughter that would have been on one of those planes if I hadn´t done what they wanted."

"That doesn´t make it right." Sylar spoke up, for the first time since the whole thing had started. He´d left his place at the couch and stepped forward. "What you did with those people was wrong."

"Oh, look at this." Bennet spoke. "A murderer who talks about Miranda rights."

"But he´s right." Gus supported him, still heated in that argument. "Those transports were nothing better than slave ships. And don´t you dare to correct me on this." he cried, pointing a warning finger at Shawn, who wisely closed his mouth again "Who sanctioned this so called program?" Gus demanded to know.

The Company man cocked an eyebrow at him. "The President." he revealed, and Gus´ mouth dropped open.

For a moment it was dead silent in the room.

"I think that explains why Shana wants him to die." Lassiter spoke up at last, recalling what Suresh had told them on the phone, only a few minutes ago.

"It still doesn´t make much sense though." Bennet objected.

"Why?"

"Because it was Nathan who was leading that program. It was his idea."

"Didn´t you say that he was a Special too?" Shawn recalled, frowning confused.

"That was a detail he knew to avoid."

"But … why would he do that?"

"To be totally honest with you … I don´t know." Bennet shook his head. "He thought he was doing the right thing. Many of these abilities were dangerous and they still are. He´s the best example for that." he glanced at Sylar again.

The killer narrowed his eyes. "Funny that I never was on one of those planes though." he spoke. "But Peter was. And Hiro. And Mohinder. And dozens of other people who hadn´t done anything wrong."

"You´re hardly the one to judge what we did."

"I´m not?" Sylar snapped, walking in on Bennet, who didn´t hesitate to stand up and face him. Shawn and Gus instinctively skipped back.

"Dude, is he serious?" Shawn whispered, regarding this standoff.

"I think he is." Gus replied, as stunned as Shawn.

Juliet stepped between the two men. "Stop it." she demanded, giving each of them a sharp look. "We are not here to fight each other, okay?"

But in the end it was Henry who ended the standoff, simply by returning to the living room, after he´d taken care of Janice Parkman and her son. When he saw what was going on, he stopped dead in his tracks, a scandalized expression on his face.

"Lassiter take that gun down." he demanded. "You´re in my living room for god´s sake."

The detective obeyed, with some reluctance.

Henry stepped forward. "What is going on here?" he demanded to know.

Bennet kept staring at Sylar, holding his gaze, before he finally turned his back on him.

"Nothing." he said and simply sat down again, as if nothing happened.

No one in the room objected.


	17. Clearances

**Clearances**

Angela Petrelli´s eyes snapped open, staring widely, in panic. Peter. In no time she was up, out of the armchair where she´d fallen asleep, and at the telephone in the parlor. She knew the number by heart but when she heard the signal that told her it was ringing, she already knew he wouldn´t answer.

Still she waited. Two rings. Three. Four. Five. Angela closed her eyes, knowing that the phone was ringing in an evidence box, locked away in a small room. She´d seen it.

She hung up, her hand shaking, her chest tight with concern. From the kitchen she could hear the voice of Heidi, chatting with Mr. Nakamura. And Dr. Suresh, only he didn´t talk to any of them. His voice was overlapping their words, talking to someone else, on the phone. Probably Noah.

He hung up just when she entered the kitchen and glanced from her to Molly. Not concerned. Not yet. Heidi and Hiro halted in their chat, uncertain. Angela smiled.

"I´m sorry, Heidi." she said. "But our guests are leaving now."

"We do?" Hiro asked, allowing to be directed to the door.

"Yes." Angela said. "And Molly is going with you."

"I do?"

Angela didn´t answer anymore, just shoved them all through the hallway, to the front door. Her guests were rather mystified about this sudden lack of hostility, but that was something she couldn´t change. The girl stopped at the door, turning around to her.

"Shell I get my stuff?" she asked.

"Never mind that, sweetheart." Angela replied. "You can gather that later. Right now it´s just important that you get to our friends, to keep working from there."

"Did something happen?" Dr. Suresh asked, his tone low. Now his eyes were concerned.

"You can say that." Angela affirmed. "They arrested Peter. And they will soon come to arrest me too."

"What?"

"I saw it in a dream. That´s why you need to leave before they get here. No need for them to arrest you too."

"You should come with us." Hiro cried but Angela shook her head.

"No. The order to arrest Peter and me is part of this conspiracy lie, Shana has made up. If I run we only play into her hands. We must not do that. Besides. If I´m not here when they come, they´ll question Heidi and the boys to find me and that is something I´d like to avoid."

The poor doctor looked at her, rather helpless. "What are we supposed to do now?" he asked.

"I thought that was obvious, Doctor. Find Nathan. Bring him back to his senses. Preferably before he assassinates the President."

She gave Suresh just enough time to perform a nod, before she urged them all out of the door.

"Now go." she ordered. "I don´t know how much time you have …"

But in this moment she´d already spotted the police car driving down the street, towards them.

"I guess I know it after all." she said, and they all swirled around, glancing down the street in shock. When they turned back to her, she simply smiled.

"Good luck, gentlemen. For all of us."

Hiro, although very upset about her decision to send them away, performed a quick bow, silently obeying her wish to leave her behind. Dr. Suresh nodded as well. And that was it. No more words were spoken. Angela watched them leave until they were gone, vanished out of sight, around the corner.

Down in the street, the black and white had stopped before her house, the two officers getting out, to do their duty. Angela sighed, glancing at the corner one last time. Everything else would be up to them now.

**...**

"So we lost Angela and Peter." Bennet summarized with a huff. "Means we have a loss of manpower before we even started."

Shawn threw a glance at Gus, meeting worried eyes. That was not a good start.

"We didn´t lose them." Mohinder objected to the choice of words. "They just got arrested."

"And Peter Petrelli took my power." Hiro agreed. "So he can come back to us."

"If that is so, why isn´t he here?" Bennet gestured around, his brows raised and expectedly Hiro didn´t have an answer to that.

"I think we can assume that they sedated him, to keep him from an escape attempt." Bennet grumbled. "Anyway, he won´t come back."

Shawn noticed, only by coincidence, how Sylar´s expression changed from worry to downright shocked, only for a moment, and then the killer simply dropped his gaze, thinking to himself. Shawn doubted that anyone else had seen it.

"Why should they do that?" Hiro asked, not less shocked about this idea. "They don´t know about his power … do they?"

"They don´t need to know, as long as Matt makes them believe it´s a good idea to keep him sedated." Bennet replied.

"We need to get Matt out of there." Mohinder repeated his original plan. "He´s the only one who can convince Nathan that all this is a mistake."

"I still don´t understand why this woman wanted Petrelli alive." Lassiter mused. "If he was the one directly responsible for the program that killed her sister, she should be glad that he´s dead."

"Except she wants some form of poetic justice." Bennet replied and earned an asking look from almost everyone around. "Making the one man responsible, kill the second one who sanctioned it." he explained his train of thoughts. "Killing two birds with one stone."

Shawn chuckled and threw a glance at Gus. "Animal abusers." he commented.

"Diabolic." Gus agreed.

"Interesting theory." Juliet admitted. "But you just assumed that she really knew about Nathan´s involvement. Maybe she had no idea."

"Oh, she knew." Bennet assured her and Lassiter nodded.

"We can´t know that." she insisted, facing her partner in disbelieve.

"Do you really think she would have made all those efforts without having all the background info?" he asked her in return. "Come on, O´Hara, you´re a woman too."

Juliet closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head in confusion. "What has that to do with it?"

"Am I the only one here," Sylar interrupted the discussion. "who realizes that we´re wasting value time by wondering about her motives, while we should think about how to prevent an assassination? As far as we know, they could be already in the process of pulling the trigger."

"Unlikely." was Bennet´s dry response. "No one gets near the President just like this. Not even a recently resurrected senator."

There was a brief silence after that sentence. Not even Noah could miss the meaning of his own words. Eventually Lassiter wagged his head.

"Although _that_ fact should speed up the usual procedure quiet a bit." he mentioned, and for the first time Shawn could remember, Bennet looked thrown off balance. Even he had to admit that this was a very unusual door opener.

Bennet sighed. "Okay, so what do you suggest we do?" he asked.

His question was directed to Lassiter, but it was Mohinder who answered.

"We should focus on getting to Matt." he repeated. "He´s the one who planted that idea of a conspiracy in Nathan´s head. He´s the only one who can correct that."

"As far as I remember, he wouldn´t listen to you, last time you saw him." Bennet recalled.

"He will, when we tell him that his family is save." Sylar supported the idea.

Bennet only looked at him with piercing eyes, not saying anything. After a moment, he simply dismissed him and faced Mohinder again.

"There´s still the problem about how to reach him."

"He can." Sylar spoke up again, not willing to be ignored like that. He pointed at Hiro.

The young Japanese nodded eagerly in agreement.

Bennet considered the idea for a moment. "You´d have to be very careful, Hiro." he said. "No one must notice that you´re there. As soon as they suspect, Matt might know about his family, they won´t let him come near Nathan anymore. Not alive. And that would mean our plan is screwed."

"I understand." Hiro nodded very serious.

"All right." Bennet mirrored the nod. He turned around, to face Molly. "We should try it."

**...**

The hotel suite was silent behind him, as silent as the city he was looking at, its natural sounds blocked out from the window. It was strange. Nathan wasn´t quiet sure why, but it almost felt as if the glass he was looking through, separated him from more than just the cool night air. As if there was a whole other world out there, one that he might be able to see but not quiet understand. Because … because of … something.

He raised a hand, frowning at his own movement, and touched the glass, carefully as if it could shatter, or burn him the instant he made contact. But nothing of this happened. Only his palm on the cool surface. Absolutely normal glass. Nothing else. And still …

Behind him he could hear the sound of a door, but somehow he couldn´t bring himself to care. Right now his own hand on that glass seemed so much more important. And he didn´t even know why.

"Nathan?" Shana´s voice spoke up, uncertain, careful. And then she was by his side, two glasses of Whiskey in her hand, eying him with concern. "Is everything all right?" she asked.

"It just feels so … unreal." he spoke, still not able to take his eyes off the glass.

Eventually he realized how ridiculous it was to stare at his own hand like that and took it down, smiling, shaking his head about his own foolishness.

"I know." Shana said understandingly. "That´s because of the drugs they gave you, to keep you contained. It will go away."

"No, I mean …" he shook his head, partly to clear his own thoughts again. "That´s not what I mean."

"What _do_ you mean?" she asked, her eyes clear and so blue, as if she was looking right into him.

Nathan needed a moment to find the answer to her question. He glanced outside again, letting the moment sink in, all those mixed feelings that were fighting inside of him, to find the one that was troubling him the most.

"It´s … Peter." he said at last, frowning against this thought. "I don´t understand why he was a part of all this. It´s not like him."

"People change, Nathan." Shana said. "Even your brother."

"Not like this." Nathan shook his head. "Not Peter."

"I know it hurts. But sometimes people leave us behind. Sometimes we get betrayed by the people we trusted most."

"I just don´t understand it."

"You don´t have to. Just accept it."

Nathan threw her a glance. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"By focusing on our mission." she said but he only shook his head.

Her eyes flickered, briefly.

"Maybe he´s innocent." she said, changing in his direction. "Maybe they made him do it. By manipulating him, blackmail, something. We´ll find out. I promise. Right now he´s save. And we need to focus on our goal, Nathan." she placed the glass in his hand, her eyes never leaving his.

"As soon as the President is dead, all this will be over." she said. "After that they´ll have no other choice but to investigate his inner circle. And then the truth will finally come to light. And then … you can take care of Peter."

Nathan looked into her eyes, intense, demanding, pleading. And he nodded.

"You´re right." he said, smiling and the fear in her eyes vanished. She knew he was with her, now she knew it, again. "Of course, you´re right."

He took a sip from his glass, allowing the soft liquid to leave a sharp trail down his throat, warming his insides. The city out there was still far away, still silent behind the glass.

Next to him Shana was drinking from her own glass, her eyes never leaving him, until he turned back to her. As soon as she met his eyes, the asking expression left her face, making room for a passionate glimmer. She smiled and nodded at him, once.

"So now, Senator." she started over, leaving the previous talk behind. "This is where your part begins. How do we get into the White House?"

Nathan lowered his eyes, thinking for a moment. A moment was all he needed and the decision was made.

**...**

Sylar was watching. It seemed that was pretty much all he did lately. How he´d ended up on the sidelines he didn´t know and he didn´t care. All he knew was that he didn´t like it.

Molly´s eyes were closed. She was still looking. Looking for Parkman. Hoping that he would be alone on a certain point, or at least out of sight, so Nakamura could go and talk to him.

It was starting to get frustrating. How long were they doing this now? Sylar sighed. Why did he even wonder about that? He knew exactly how long. And that was exactly the reason why he felt like smashing something into the wall by now.

That and something else.

Molly stirred in her seat, the frown on her forehead loosened a little. She hesitated. One moment, two.

"He´s alone now." she cried at last and opened her eyes. "He´s in the bathroom, of hotel room number 709." she informed them and Hiro nodded, straightening his back.

Before he could go, Janice Parkman lay a hand on his shoulder, facing him. "Matt." she said as if she spoke into a camera. "I love you. Promise me that you´ll come back to us."

Hiro smiled, nodding at her, once. She mirrored his nod and then he stepped back, closing his eyes. A second later he was gone, the rest of them waiting in utter silence. There was nothing else they could do now. Just wait.

Sylar threw a glance at Mohinder, who was padding Molly´s shoulder, reassuring her that she did good, that things would be all right again. Sylar started to move, slowly making his way over to them. When the girl noticed his approach, her head snapped toward him, her eyes carefully aware, hard.

"Keep your distance." she hissed at him, leaving no room for arguments. And even though Sylar had not expected her to be pleased by his presence, he was taken aback by that amount of hostility.

He noticed the hard eyes of Janice Parkman, in the background. She was watching him warily, ever since they´d gotten back from L.A. And Bennet´s gaze of course, simply watching his every move, without any sign of emotional attachment.

Instinctively he searched Mohinder's eyes. But the geneticist didn´t seem much more supportive than the others, his eyes just a little less harsh, at best.

"You heard her." was all he said, before quietly taking a seat next to Molly.

Sylar took a breath. And there it was. The second reason why he felt like smashing something into the wall, for over an hour now. But regarding all the other eyes on him, he decided it was probably a better alternative to just retrieve. The situation was already tensed enough even without him smashing half of Henry Spencer´s living room.

On his way to the other end of the room, he met the first pair of eyes that was not hostile or judging. Quiet the contrary. Shawn seemed to be as frustrated about the whole situation as he was, actually sharing his feelings about it. Or maybe that was just him, wishing, reading it into the younger man´s gaze.

He turned his eyes away from him and finished his way to lean against the wall, huffing, staring at the kitchen table, one of the main sources of his bad mood. Both of them were avoiding his gaze, pretending he wasn´t even there. The only one that still acknowledged his presence was Bennet, still watching him, still letting him know that he was aware of his every move. Sylar only stared back at him, until they both got tired of that game.

After a while Shawn appeared by his side, hands in his pockets.

"Hey, dude." he whispered. "Everything okay?"

Sylar threw a glance to the other side of the room, to the kitchen table. "No." he rasped and after another moment he sighed in frustration. "This plan is not gonna work."

"You think so, huh?" Shawn looked at him estimating. "Then why did you support it earlier?"

Sylar didn´t give an answer but Shawn didn´t seem to need one. He only threw a brief glance over his shoulder, at the kitchen table, and nodded.

"I see." After quickly clearing his throat, he told him: "I´m not a fan of just sitting around waiting, either. So if you have a better idea what we should do, I´m with you."

Sylar stared at him, surprised. But then he saw the serious gaze of his younger friend and he understood, smiling appreciatively.

"I let you know if I have an idea." he said.

"Great." Shawn exclaimed, moving in front of him, so that his body was shielding the fist he held out for Sylar. His eyes were looking somewhere else, his face the most obvious one the killer had ever seen.

Sylar couldn´t help the smile that came over him, seeing this. Why, oh why, was Shawn still so much himself and Mohinder wasn´t? He bumped his own fist into Shawn´s, for some strange reason feeling more detached than ever, and Shawn turned around, nonchalantly walking away, as if their talk had never happened.

**...**

Matt watched the two guards Shana had assigned to watch over him. One of them was sitting on the desk across the room, the other one stood at the window, looking out. They would stay here with him until tomorrow, never leaving him out of their sight. Not that Shana had to worry, he might run. But obviously she preferred it to make sure than to simply trust.

Of course, he thought. It´s one hell of a plan they have. A plan he read in her mind by now, not caring anymore if she objected or not. But she didn´t and that alone troubled him. Because it meant there was nothing in her head, she wouldn´t want him to know. The fact that Jan and Mattie might be free by now for example.

Matt sighed. If that would have happened, she would know it. She just had to know. But she didn´t. There was nothing in her mind that indicated anything in this regard. And that could only mean that his only hope, the possibility that Hiro might have vanished to save them, was lost. Maybe Matt was a helpless idealist but he´d really believed that Hiro had it inside of him, to forgive him the betrayal, for the sake of Jan and the boy.

But the way things looked he hadn´t. Either that or he was dead. How could Matt know? He didn´t even know where Hiro went after they came back, with Nathan.

This was ridiculous. He should be able to do something. He should just reach out for the minds of these two guys, planting a thought into their head, maybe making them see him still sitting here, while for real, he walked out of here, out to … yeah to do what? To take the next flight back home, back to L.A.? His power over other peoples minds only held for so long, especially when it came to simple illusions. They would know that he was gone, long before he even got near that hotel. If they were even still there.

Maybe Shana had ordered a constant moving around of the hostages, to make sure he wouldn´t find them. In that case he wouldn´t know even if he melted away all of Shana´s brain substance.

God, he should have listened to Mohinder. He should have let them help. Maybe they could have done it. Screw Sylar, but he´d meant what he´d said, when they´d talked to him. Matt had seen it in his mind. Why? Why hadn´t he allowed them to help? It could be over now. But he´d been scared. Scared for the life of his family. And he´d been angry, unable to trust.

He still wouldn´t trust Sylar, if he´d be here now, repeating this offer. But if he would have the chance to do it all over again, now Matt would agree, shoving all his doubts and fears aside, to cling to this last strand that might be able to save his wife and child.

But that strand was gone. He´d ripped it out when it had presented itself to him and now he was alone in this rushing river that was dragging him down, mercilessly. It was all his fault, and his fault alone.

The guard was staring at him, even more suspicious than before and eventually Matt couldn´t stand it any longer. He got up from his seat, crossing the room, heading for the bathroom door. When the guard sat up in his chair, the other one turning around, he halted, pointing at the door.

"You want to join me?" he asked. When neither of them answered, he took the handle. "I didn´t think so."

First he simply stood there, staring at the toilet, eying it like a dangerous device, something that could bite him if he used it, even got too close to it. What was he doing here? He didn´t even need to pee that urgently. He´d only wanted to get away from these guys out there, even if it was for only a few minutes. But standing here and playing staredown with the john would not get him anywhere.

And since he was here anyway …

He was just done, his hand reaching out to push the flushing, when the sound of air snapping was audible behind him. Matt swirled around on instinct, and found himself face to face with Hiro Nakamura. In no time he swirled back around, cursing under his breath, quickly trying to cover himself, to save at least this last pitiful rest of his dignity.

He could hear Hiro gasp behind him, quickly turning around himself.

"I´m very sorry, Matt Parkman." he cried. „I didn´t mean to embarrass you."

Matt cursed once again, this time over the volume of Hiro´s voice.

"My god, Hiro." he whispered, turning back to him after his pants were zipped up. "Where the hell have you been?" he hissed as quietly as he could.

Hiro smiled at him widely. "Rescuing your family." he told him, quietly.

Matt almost believed he´d misunderstood him. "What?"

"Yes." Hiro´s smile grew even wider. "Your wife and child are save, Matt Parkman."

Matt couldn´t stop himself from laughing out in relief at this.

"And you … I mean … are you sure they´re …?"

"Yes." Hiro assured him. "You can stop helping the villainess now."

Matt´s smile faltered a little, the doubts he´d carried until this moment, returning to him.

"And there is really no mistake?" he asked. "They are really save?"

Once again Hiro smiled, nodding at him, once. "I have a message for you." he told him quietly and all Matt needed was to see the look in his eyes.

He immediately focused his concentration, reaching out for Hiro´s mind. And there she was. Janice. Beautiful as always, barely ten minutes ago, touching Hiro´s shoulder, looking into his eyes, speaking the most beautiful words Matt could ever think of. Yes, she was save. And so was Mattie. Finally, finally it was over.

Matt closed his eyes. "Oh, thanks god."

A harsh knock against the door, made him jerk. "Hey!" one of the guards shouted through the door. "You done any time soon?"

Matt hurried to flash the toilet, giving them something to hear.

"You need to erase the lies they made you put into Nathan Petrelli´s head." Hiro whispered at him over the sound of the flush. "He must stop believing Shana is on his side. He must see the truth. That she is evil."

Matt threw him a glance, frantically washing his hands, and nodded. "I know." he breathed. "Don´t worry." He grabbed the towel. "You better leave now."

Hiro didn´t say anything else, just nodded once, and then he was gone.

Matt put the towel back, taking a deep breath, before he stepped out of the bathroom.

"What were you doing in there so long?" his guard demanded to know.

Matt only looked at him, a startled frown on his forehead. "Are you serious?"

Without waiting for a response, he snorted and shaking his head, walked away from the guy.


	18. Waiting

**Waiting**

When Hiro came back, all eyes turned towards him in an instant.

"And?" Bennet asked and Hiro smiled.

"My mission was a success." he reported proudly. "Matt Parkman will do what we asked him for."

A common relieve could be sensed throughout the whole house. Bennet nodded, hardheadedly.

"At least he´ll try." he rephrased Hiro´s optimism. "Let´s not forget he has to get to him first."

"How will we know if he succeeded?" Lassiter asked.

"I´m afraid we can´t." was the plain answer. "Not until we get the word … somehow."

After that it was silent. Just for a moment.

"Then … what do we do now?" Shawn asked, no one in particular.

Bennet only shrugged. "Waiting."

"And for how long?"

The Company man gave a subtle smile. "I´d say we call it a night." he suggested. "Let´s get some rest. And keep going tomorrow."

Shawn made a sound of utter disbelieve, coming from deep inside his throat. "Are you serious?" he cried.

"Go home, kid." his father spoke, his voice calm and tired. "Get some sleep. You´ll need it."

"But we …" Shawn didn´t know how to go on and when his eyes found Sylar´s, pleading him to help, the killer had to decline. He shook his head.

"Come on, Shawn." Gus said, quietly, idly nudging his friend. "I give you a ride."

Sylar saw the hesitation in Shawn´s eyes but eventually even he had to give in, regarding how everybody else around him, started to collect their stuff, getting ready to move home. Janice Parkman gave Hiro a grateful hug, before she left the sitting room, going back upstairs to her sleeping son. Henry Spencer came back from the other room, a pillow and a blanket under his arm, preparing the couch for Molly to sleep on it. He had another cot in the garage, he told Mohinder and went out to fetch it.

Sylar couldn´t stand it any longer. If he remained where he was only one more minute, he would explode, maybe even in the literal meaning. So he started to move, more abruptly than he intended and Molly  
immediately tensed, when she saw him coming.

"Don´t worry, kid, I´m not interested in you." he rasped, out of his patience and faced Mohinder. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

The geneticist hesitated, Sylar could see that, but when he turned around and headed for the kitchen, Mohinder followed. As soon as they were alone, Sylar swirled around, facing him, demanding an answer.

"Do we have a problem?" he asked and after a moment of silence: "You don´t even try to pretend that you don´t know what I mean. So I assume we have."

Mohinder didn´t give a response. But somehow his look was more than Sylar needed for an answer. Oh, yes, they did have a problem.

"You mind sharing it?" he snapped. "What have I done? Why do you keep treating me as if I were the enemy here?"

"Because you are what you are." Mohinder burst out, at last. "Okay?"

His words startled Sylar more than he was ready to admit. There was something in Mohinder's glare that he hadn´t seen in a long time. Disgust. His chest was heaving with each breath, labored.

"I mean …" Mohinder started and Sylar could tell that this wasn´t easy for him either. He was looking for words, to describe something he barely understood himself. To give him the answer, he´d demanded. But facing this, Sylar wasn´t sure he still wanted to hear it.

"I know, we´re working together." Mohinder started anyway. "Fair enough. I remember that. I remember everything. But that´s. Exactly. The point. I remember. Everything."

His eyes were sharp, accusing, condemning, all in one.

"You deceived me." he said. "You used me. You killed my father and dozens of others. Innocent people. You´re a murderer." He stopped himself, briefly, to consider his next words. "I can understand that you wanted to change. Why I decided to support you with this. I can even understand how I happened to work with you. It kinda makes sense, head-thinking-wise. But I can´t understand how I could have ever been your friend. How I could ever trust you. With my life or Molly´s. In any way."

Sylar needed time to compute, time he didn´t have. "So you say you don´t trust me anymore?" he heard himself ask.

Mohinder's voice was hard when he answered. "I don´t see how I could."

For a moment Sylar found himself unable to speak. This revelation, although not completely unexpected, had a deeper impact than he´d expected, leaving him utterly confused and rattled. The corner of his mouth curled up, to a humorless chuckle.

"But you did." he recalled, halfheartedly.

Mohinder exhaled. "I know. I remember that. I just don´t see how …" he didn´t finish the sentence. He didn´t need to. "I´m sorry." he shook his head and for the first time since they´d entered the kitchen, Sylar saw something in his eyes that indeed looked as if he was sorry. "I just don´t know what to believe anymore." Mohinder said. "Just because this other version of our life is not existent anymore, doesn´t make it undone."

"I know." Sylar needed an unexpected amount of willpower to raise his gaze again, and look at the geneticist. "Would it make a difference if I´d say I´m sorry?" he asked, but Mohinder only sighed.

"It´s not that simple."

"I know." And he did. He did. "What …" he shrugged, smiling helplessly. "So what does that mean? Where are we now?"

"I don´t know." Mohinder said, honest as he could be.

Sylar could only shake his head. "What do we do now?"

Mohinder shook his head in return. "I don´t know." Nothing more. "I need to take care of Molly. Excuse me."

Sylar looked after him, not sure what to think anymore. Was that it? Just like that? All this work, all that time he´d invested in building up something that finally, finally could last. A partnership that actually worked for him. A place where he was save, grounded, where he had a purpose. Was all that falling apart now? Just like this?

Only a moment after Mohinder had vanished around the corner, Shawn stepped into view, his gaze down, almost shamefully for interrupting. He cleared his throat.

"This ehm … this house seems to be running out of beds." he said. "And my ehm … my Dad wouldn´t be too fond of you staying here tonight so … I have a couch that I could spare."

Sylar stared at him blankly for a moment, facing a pair of sympathetic hazel eyes. Eventually he nodded and followed him outside.

**...**

When Matt Parkman left his hotel room, the two guards inside were idly sitting on the table, nice and obedient, like two well behaved boys. He´d waited barely two minutes before he´d turned on them, pushing the thought of a quiet evening in their minds, making them stand down while he walked out into the hallway.

The one guard Shana had posted outside in the hall, sitting unsuspiciously on the couch out here, got up and sat down again, after Matt gave him the order. The time of being nice was over. He had no idea what he would make Shana do, but he would do something to make her pay for threatening his family. Maybe trapping her in her biggest nightmare.

He reached the door and knocked, demanding.

It was Perkins who opened the door. He opened his mouth but the words never left his mouth.

"Let me in." Matt ordered and Perkins stepped aside, holding the door open so he could enter.

Matt looked around. The suite was empty.

"Where are they?" he swirled back to Perkins. "Where´s Shana? And Nathan?"

"Miss Stockwell and the senator left half an hour ago." Perkins told him. „They didn´t tell me where they went."

Matt cursed. „Did they say when they´d be back?" he asked but already knew the answer. Of course Perkins shook his head.

Matt cursed again, tried to think. There was no way to find out where they were and waiting here was too much of a a risk, not knowing if they´d come back at all. He´d promised Janice to come back home, so that was a risk he wasn´t willing to take.

But he couldn´t just leave either. Not with Shana´s men still here, free to do whatever they pleased, free to walk away after they´d kidnapped and threatened the life of his family. He was a cop. He couldn´t allow them to get away with this. And even more important, he was a father. And that meant he couldn´t allow them to ever threaten them again.

The decision was made. He faced Perkins and reached out for his mind.

"You and your men will do exactly what I tell you."

**...**

The street was quiet and abandoned, Gus´ blue Toyota Echo the only moving thing as it seemed. The two men got out and Gus threw Shawn an asking gaze, full of uncertainty and worry. But Shawn was not worried at all. He only smiled at his friend, telling him to go home and sleep well. He´d see him tomorrow, first thing in the morning. After a last brief glance at Sylar, the killer, Gus drove away.

Shawn waved after him, until he was around the corner. After that, he and Sylar stood at the curbside for a moment, just standing, while the sound of the motor faded in the distance, a distance that seemed to be so much farther at night than it ever could in the daylight.

"Okay." Shawn spoke at last, turning to the superpowered man next to him. "What do we do now?"

Sylar only glanced at him, briefly, before idly looking ahead at the street again.

"Sleep?" he suggested, cocking one brow ever so slightly.

With that he turned around and headed for the door, to Shawn´s appartement. The fake psychic needed a second to deal with this totally unexpected answer. Seriously? When he realized he was still standing in his place, he swirled around and followed Sylar to the door, quickly unlocking it.

"Seriously, dude." he said, switching on the light. "You are aware of the fact that I only said that so we could sneak out of the window."

"What for?" Sylar asked, with a sigh.

Shawn just couldn´t believe it. He raised his shoulders. "To save the President?"

But the only reaction he got, was a dry chuckle.

"This is not 24, Shawn." Sylar told him, his voice tired. "This is real life."

"Sure." Shawn shrugged. "I know that. But it would make an awesome plot for a TV show." he added with a smirk. "Honestly can you imagine Jack Bauer with a power? Wait. Then his name would actually be Jack Power, wouldn´t it? And even if not, his power would definitely be his voice, because that man has some yell, it can´t be natural."

Sylar´s tired facade cracked at last and he dropped his head, laughing quietly.

It was a relieve to see that. For a while Shawn had truly believed the killer would succumb to his depression. But when there was something Shawn knew for sure, then it was this: laughing was the first and only medicine against a coming up depression.

"Listen." he started, more serious this time. "I know it´s not easy. Of course I know. I went through the same ordeal …"

"Exactly." Sylar cried out. "But you don´t despise me. Do you?" Shawn shook his head and Sylar nodded, almost relieved. "Then why does Mohinder?" he asked, really asked, as if Shawn could explain this mystery to him. "Why does he have to make it so …" he tried to find the right word but failed, cursing.

"Maybe because you lied to him?" Shawn suggested.

Sylar looked up, glaring. "I lied to everyone." he rasped. "Including you."

"Don´t get me wrong, dude, but I never really trusted you." Shawn chuckled. "Nathan, I mean." He halted, blinking. "Wow, that´s … complicated."

"What?"

Shawn shook his head. "What I meant to say is … the worst thing you can do to a person, is not to hurt him, physically, or to even kill them. The worst thing you can do to someone, is to shatter their trust. And let´s face it, that´s what you did, dude. Because he trusted you, and you deceived him. More than just once. Ever since you guys met, you keep lying to him about who you are and that is no base for a friendship. Honestly, it´s almost as if you don´t want him to know you."

Sylar glared at Shawn, angry all the sudden. "You´re barely the one to talk." he growled. "Psychic."

"At least my best friend knows my real name, dude. Mr. President. Or should I say Zane?"

Sylar frowned, startled. "He told you that?"

"We had three months to talk, remember?"

Syar lowered his gaze, taken aback and Shawn felt that he´d gone too far.

"Dude. I just …" he sighed. "You know. You´re right. I´m not the one to talk. I lied as well. To the one person that means the most to me. And we both know what happened when Jules found out. She never forgave me. She never really trusted me again. So I know how that feels."

"She forgave you, Shawn." Sylar´s eyes were soft, when he stepped closer, as if he needed to comfort him. "She never told you, but she did. She never really held it against you. And you were the only person in the world, she would have trusted with her life." he halted, for a moment. "Maybe except for Carlton."

Shawn looked at him, startled. "What about you? You were her husband."

But Sylar shook his head. "I might have been but …" he only shook his head, once again. "Sometimes the people we end up with, are not the people we really want to be with." He smiled to himself, sadly. "Sometimes."

Shawn looked down, feeling uncomfortable all the sudden. He cleared his throat.

"So what is it now?" he asked. "Are we getting over there and save the day, or what? Or rather … the night, because it´s already …" he looked at his watch.

"How?" Sylar wanted to know. Shawn only shrugged. "By helping that Parkman dude out of the trouble, he´s probably getting himself into right now. I mean seriously, you said yourself that this plan is not gonna work. And I think the same. Sending one guy against a whole bunch of villains all on his own? Please. No matter how good this guy can read minds, he has no chance against a bunch of mercenaries. We could do so much better. I mean with all your powers … you could kick their asses in thirty seconds."

This time Sylar smiled, pleased, coaxed.

"And what would be your part in it?" he asked, catching Shawn off guard.

"Awesomeness?" he replied, at last. "Are you serious?"

But his offended cry, only caused Sylar to chuckle.

"Come on, you can get us over there." Shawn urged him. "We can´t just sit around here and wait for this guy to get himself killed. Or worse. And that is what will happen."

At last the killer stopped laughing and faced him, more serious. "You´re probably right." he admitted.

"Of course, I´m right." Shawn clapped his hands enthusiastically, rubbing them together. "Okay, then. What do we need?"

Sylar regarded him in silence for a moment. "Would you switch the light off?" he asked.

Shawn blinked. "Huh?"

"The light." Sylar repeated and finally Shawn understood.

"Oh. Sure, of course." He swirled around and pushed the light switch. "And now?" he asked into the dark room.

"Come over here." Sylar´s voice spoke and Shawn did his best to comply without tripping over something. Eventually he stood by the killer´s side, in a corner of his living room.

"Take my hand." Sylar prompted.

Shawn did. He could see Sylar´s eyes in the semi darkness of the room and his excitement got the better of him at last. God, that was so cool.

An amused smile curled the killer´s lips and Shawn could hear a faint chuckle, before Sylar shook his head and faced the wall.

"And some people actually say I look crazy." he murmured, reaching out a hand for the shadow.

Shawn frowned in confusion but a moment later, he was already pulled forward, into the darkness.

**...**

They were in a hotel in Washington, Molly´d said. The Royal Inn. With only these two information Sylar was leading them through the darkness, crossing distances, ignoring time and space, and reached out with his mind for that one spot on earth he needed to reach. Eventually he found the place and with one last mental order, he shoved the curtain aside that separated the world of pure darkness from the world of light, and stepped out of the shadow.

It was a broom closet that provided him with the gate he needed, the first best place he could find that was dark enough. Obviously a little too dark though, because the first thing Shawn did after they got there, was tripping over a bucket, stumbling against the door.

An enormous noise accompanied his fall outside, two brooms, a mop and the bucket that had tripped him, clattering to the floor along with him.

"Dude." he exclaimed, looking up at Sylar, his hands still protectively over his head. "That was not nice." he groaned. "In fact … that was clumsy. Insanely, stupidly clumsy."

"Are you okay?" Sylar gave him a hand, to lift him up.

"Yeah." Shawn stood straight at once and exhaled, loudly. He looked around. "You think they heard that?"

Sylar trained his ears, trying to decide if someone was coming for them, but there was nothing.

"Doesn´t seem so." he found.

"Right." Shawn rubbed his hands together, still panting after this crash landing. "Okay." he nodded. "Now where are we?" He looked at one of the doors along the hallway. „613." he read the number that stood there. "That means we have to get up a few more stories."

Sylar turned to said door, bewildered. But it was true. The number said indeed 613. Just like that faithful apartment in New York so many years ago. Even the form of those numbers were similar and for a second Sylar was startled. As if someone had placed it there only to mock him.

"Molly said they are in room 956." Shawn went on not even noticing Sylar´s puzzlement. He glanced down the hall, to the elevators. "Let´s get up there."

Sylar nodded, following him in silence. When they exited the elevator two stories above, he lay a hand on Shawn´s arm, stopping him. Carefully he peeked around the corner. The hallway was empty.

"No guards." Shawn whispered, leaning out just like him. "That´s … kinda weird. I´d figured they´d be more … paranoid."

"Maybe they just don´t want to raise attention." Sylar looked up and spotted the camera under the ceiling, small and unobtrusive, like it has to be in a hotel.

He raised a hand and holding it out, pressed thumb and index finger together. Under the ceiling the camera crackled and after another moment, failed.

"That´s so cool." Shawn exclaimed, his eyes wide with awe.

When Sylar turned around to him, he smiled, the glimmer in his eyes almost as insane as it had been when they´d started off in Santa Barbara. Maybe that was just how Shawn looked when he was a little more excited than it was healthy for him, Sylar mused and regarding this smile, he wasn´t surprised any longer, over all the danger this guy had gotten himself into over the years.

"What was the number again?" he asked him at last.

"Ah … 956." Shawn answered, subtly raising his hand to his temple while thinking. "But they took a few rooms along this hall. Four in the whole. 954 to 957."

Sylar walked down the hallway, letting his eyes search the doors until he found the matching numbers.

"Molly said, 956 was the one where Nathan and Shana are." Shawn whispered, glancing at Sylar uncertain. "You think they …?" he cleared his throat and gestured for the door.

Sylar didn´t give a response, only smirked, and raised a hand, as if to knock.

"You might wanna step back." he advised the fake psychic. "This could get messy."

Shawn nodded, the awe he felt very obvious in his face, and took a step back. When Sylar activated his hand, making blue lightnings ball up in his palm, Shawn´s brows went up. But the killer didn´t pay any more attention to him. He faced the door and busted it, storming into the room, ready to throw bolts of lightning at everyone who should try to fight back.

But he didn´t get to do anything in there. Because no one was there. The suite was empty.

Sylar took his hand down, killing the lightnings in it. That was weird. He was sure the room was the right one. Shawn had been sure.

"Dude, where are they?" Shawn spoke up, right next to him and Sylar jumped, cursing under his breath.

"Didn´t I tell you to stay put?"

Shawn only frowned at him. "Why can´t I remember you saying that?" he wondered.

Sylar exhaled, shaking his head angrily.

"Maybe they´re in the other rooms." he guessed and went back outside. "Stay here until I checked them." he ordered, making sure that Shawn had heard him this time.

He aimed for the next door, the one across the hallway. His eyes darted behind him, to the other two doors, knowing that if they heard him, they´d come out and attack from behind. He busted the door. But the room was empty as well, just like the suite.

Sylar swirled around at once, expecting Shana´s men to attack. But no one came out of those other doors. He remained where he was, in the door of room 455, and opened the two others both at once, waiting for anyone to come out. Still no one came. What the hell?

"Where the heck are they?" Shawn asked, right next to him and Sylar jumped, raising a hand on instinct. He stopped himself just in time, cursing once again.

"God, dammit, Shawn." he hissed, clenching his fist. "I told you to stay put."

"Until you checked all the rooms." Shawn shrugged. "And now you´re done, aren´t you?"

"I could have killed you."

"Strange." Shawn frowned, thoughtfully. "After being killed a few times, that possibility kinda loses its appeal. That´s really a weird feeling. Maybe Gus is right. Maybe I should talk to a psychiatrist."

Sylar lowered his arm with an exasperated sigh. "Slowly I start to understand why Lassiter doesn´t like to have you around when he makes an arrest."

"Who´s here to arrest anyway?" Shawn held against it. "I mean they´ve all obviously gone out. And …" he held up a plastic card. "They left their keys. Man, that doesn´t make any sense. Why should they do that?"

"Maybe I have an idea." Sylar mumbled, meeting Shawn´s asking gaze. "Parkman."

"Parkman." Shawn repeated. "You mean they got him?"

"No." Sylar looked down the hall, at the four open doors. "I mean, I think, he might have gotten _them_."

"What? How that?"

Sylar exhaled. "Come with me."

He led Shawn back to the elevator, driving down to the lobby, and approached the reception.

"Excuse me, Miss." he spoke. "The gentlemen from story eight, when did they leave the hotel?"

The young woman in the red uniform eyed him cautiously. "You are associated with them?" she asked.

"I had an appointment with the senator. But he´s not there."

"Oh, the senator left much earlier today." she informed him. "Ehm … around … I´m not sure … nine? Yeah, he was accompanied by Miss Stockwell. I guess they went for dinner or something."

Sylar frowned, turning around to meet Shawn´s gaze. The younger man was as unconvinced about the receptionist´s theory as Sylar was.

"Then Petrelli wasn´t even here anymore, when Hiro went to see Parkman." he deducted, talking in a whisper tone.

"That also means that Parkman didn´t get to see Nathan when he tried it." Sylar nodded.

"Instead he ran into Shana´s bodyguards." Shawn hissed excitedly. "Man, I knew this would go wrong." He halted, thinking this over. "But where are they now?" he wondered. "I´m not getting it."

Sylar´s gaze was at the front door for no particular reason, when a line of police cars rushed by, horns wielding loudly in the streets. Shawn swirled around in surprise at the sound.

"I think, I have an idea." Sylar rasped.

When he made his way to the front door, Shawn followed. The sirens were still echoing through the neighborhood, not fading any longer. So they´d stopped, not too far away from the hotel. The concierge was standing at the door, looking down the street, just like almost everyone on the sidewalk. Sylar turned towards him.

"Is there a bank nearby by any chance?" he asked him.

"Yeah, only two streets ahead." the man answered.

"Dude." Shawn exclaimed. "You don´t actually think they´d rob a bank. Do you?"

Sylar didn´t answer.

**...**

Gus stopped his car at the curbside, merely ten minutes after he´d circled Shawn´s neighborhood, and killed the engine. For a minute or two he just sat there, behind the wheel and stared at the windows of Shawn´s apartment, dark. Of course, it was night and they´d been told to lay down and rest.

But somehow Gus couldn´t quiet believe that Shawn would have been ready for bed in such a short time. Except if he´d dropped into bed without bothering to get undressed, or showered or anything else. And the way Shawn had looked when Gus had dropped him and Sylar off, he hadn´t been that tired. So the two of them had either never entered the building or … but that second possibility was something Gus didn´t want to think about.

Instead he got out of the car and headed for the front door. He took the second key Shawn had given him and quietly unlocked the door. Inside it was quiet. Gus sniffed briefly, just to make sure he didn´t smell any blood in here, before switching on the light.

No shoes next to the door, no serial killer that slept on the couch, no anything. They weren´t here. So his first guess had been right. Damn, he hated it to be right about Shawn. But he´d known that his friend was up to something. He´d just known.

Cursing in silence he took out his cell phone to call him, to demand that he told him where they were or to come right back and stop bringing himself in danger like a ten year old. But as soon as he heard the signal, Shawn´s phone started ringing on the bureau right next to Gus, making him jump and shriek for a moment. When his heart wasn´t hammering anymore, he put his cell back in his pocket and tried to think.

He didn´t know where they were but he was sure they were heading straight for big trouble. Gus had no idea about Sylar´s tendencies in that regard – he´s a serial killer, who do you try to kid? – but he knew Shawn. And that meant he couldn´t stand here and waste time.

He switched off the light and went back to his car, driving straight back to Henry´s house.


	19. Teams

**Teams**

His breath was coming in short hitches, hurting his throat. Damn he should jog more often, maybe use that cross trainer he´d parked in his office, at least once in a while. They only ran a few streets and he felt like totally whacked. Finally they reached the last corner and there it was. The big bunch of police cars and rubberneckers, all gathered around a bank, lights flashing around in blue and red, illuminating the early night.

Someone was trying to negotiate with the bank robbers via megaphone but Shawn didn´t understand the words. He was leaning on his knees, only hearing his own panting, and the beating of his heart in his ears.

"Dude." he breathed. "That´s a mess."

Sylar looked at him, asking.

"I was in a hostage situation like that once." he explained, his breath slowly coming back to him. He shook his head. "That´s not good. What is this Parkman dude thinking?"

"He wants them to get caught." Sylar growled. "That´s what he´s thinking. He couldn´t get Nathan, so he decided to get _them_ instead. That´s his way of facing an army all on his own. He just forgot to consider a hostage situation. Not to mention a shootout with the police, these guys will start as soon as one of them loses his nerves."

Shawn´s head started to clear, after he could use his lungs in a proper way again. He straightened up, wiping some sweat off his face, and remembered something. Something he´d noticed back in the hotel suite. It had seemed odd back then, but now, considering what Sylar´d just said, it suddenly made sense. In some way.

"I don´t think this is gonna happen." he commented Sylar´s last sentence.

The killer turned around to him, startled. "Why not?"

"Because their guns are not loaded."

"What?" Sylar cried in disbelieve but reconsidered, only a second later. "Are you sure?"

"Trust me."

It was all Shawn needed to say. God, he wished Lassie would listen to him in a way like Sylar did it now. His gaze was thoughtful but he nodded, simply accepting what Shawn had said.

"All right." he murmured, turning back to the scene before them. "But the police doesn´t know that. As soon as they see a gun, they´ll shoot."

"Yeah." Shawn nodded, regarding that half circle of police cars on the street. "Don´t worry, I got this." he said and walked straight up to the scene, ignoring Sylar´s cries for him to stop. As well as the barricades that were meant to keep the rubberneckers at distance. His target was the man with the megaphone.

"Excuse me, sir."

The cop swirled around, staring at him in disbelieve.

"What are you doing here?" he barked. "Go back behind the barriers."

"I´m afraid I can´t do that." Shawn replied. "And you´ll want to hear what I have to say. That these guys in there are completely and totally without ammo."

For a moment the man before him stared at him, flabbergasted, his mouth open.

"And how do you know that?" he demanded to know.

"Because I´m a psychic." Shawn brought his hand to his temple. "Shawn Spencer. I occasionally work for the S.B.P.D. so you surely heard of me."

"S.B.?" the cop repeated. "Where´s that supposed to be?"

Shawn chuckled, looking around in disbelieve. "What, are you kidding me? Where do you guys live?"

"It´s Santa Barbara." Sylar answered the detective´s question. "We´re in Washington, Shawn, remember?"

Shawn´s mouth dropped open, recalling this detail. Right. How did he forget that?

The detective regarded them warily.

"California, huh?" he asked. "And you´re here why?"

"Doesn´t matter." Sylar replied before Shawn could even open his mouth. "What matters is that you should listen to him, because he knows what he´s talking about. So you can either keep this charade up, until your men and theirs goad each other to the point when someone just snaps and starts a bloodbath … or you do the right thing and end this, before it gets out of hand. It´s your choice."

Shawn stood between the two men and didn´t know what to do, other than to point at Sylar, silently supporting his words.

The detective looked back and forth between them for a moment, clearly intimidated by Sylar´s speech, uncertainty glistening in his eyes. At last he faced Shawn again.

"How sure are you about this?" he wanted to know.

"Absolutely." Shawn´s face was dead serious. "It is as if I´d seen their ammo, where they´d left it."

The detective was still unsure, Shawn could tell, but facing both, his and Sylar´s serious gazes, he gave in at last, nodding hesitantly.

"Okay." he said, reaching into his car to take his radio. "Everybody, this is Anderson." he called in, never leaving the two of them out of his eyes. "I just got the word that our culprits are without ammunition. Unconfirmed though. Over." He took the radio down. "That´s the best I can do." he said. "Now step back behind the barrier." After a moment of silence, he added firmly: "Please."

"Let´s go, Shawn." Sylar spoke. "We did everything we could." He gave the detective one last, demanding glare, before turning his head, demonstratively regarding the crowd all around them. "It´s in your hands."

After that he just walked off. Shawn followed him.

"Shouldn´t we do some more?" he asked. "I mean …"

"No." Sylar talked over him, looking back at the bank with gloomy eyes. "I´m sure Parkman programmed them to give up without a fight."

Shawn blinked. "You know that guy pretty well, do you?" he found with some surprise.

Sylar shrugged. "I spent some time in his head. You learn to know someone after a while." When he noticed Shawn´s raised brows, he smiled. "Long story."

Shawn simply nodded, even though he understood not the first thing of what he´d just heard. Eventually he decided to skip this and shook his head.

"I´m still not getting it. Where is he? Did he go after Nathan and Shana?"

"Possible." Sylar´s brow was furrowed. "But that also means that they´re not going to come back to the hotel. That means we have no idea how to go on."

Shawn watched him think in silence for a while, his eyes dark and near to frustration once again.

"Maybe we find something in their rooms that tells us where they went." Shawn suggested.

After a second of consideration, Sylar nodded.

**...**

Gus found Mohinder on Henry´s veranda, standing in silence, looking out, a deep frown on his forehead. Wherever he was in his thoughts it must have been far away. He didn´t notice Gus´ approach until he was right in front of him.

"Gus." he exhaled, jumping every so slightly.

"Dr. Suresh." Gus climbed up to the veranda. "I need your help. Shawn and Sylar. They snuck out."

"What?"

"I checked Shawn´s place and they´re not there. I have no idea where to look for them. We need Molly to tell us where they are before Shawn gets himself into trouble that gets him killed."

"Slow down, Gus." Mohinder said. "Take a breath inbetween. Did you try to call him on his cell phone?"

Gus raised an eyebrow at him. "What do_ you_ think?" he blurred. "He didn´t take it with him. It lies on his bureau."

Suresh didn´t answer him, only took his own cell phone out of his pocket.

"What are you doing?" Gus asked, bewildered and Mohinder shot him a glance.

"I´m calling Sylar."

**...**

In the FBI headquarter, Mary Lightly peeked around a corner, down the hallway where the holding cells were. A guard was posted there, looking bored but very awake. Another person peeked over Mary´s shoulder, briefly, before she retrieved, hiding again.

"It´s just the one guy." Mary told his colleague. "Shouldn´t be too hard for you."

The female agent sighed. "And you´re sure about this?"

"Believe me." Mary said, with his most intense gaze. "I´m sure there is a reason for all of this. I just don´t know which. That´s something Mr. Petrelli will have to tell me."

She held his gaze, thoughtfully. Eventually she nodded. "Okay."

"I´ll buy you a coffee later." Mary promised.

"Forget it." was all she replied, not even looking at him. Her posture was tensed, regarding the fact that she was in the process of violating the protocol. "Just … forget that I was ever involved in this." she stated, her hands clinging to the files she carried. "Because if they catch you, I´ll deny everything."

Mary simply shrugged. "That´s fine by me."

"Good." she nodded and took another breath, before making her way down the hallway.

Mary watched her go. He saw her smiling at the man guarding the cell and how she pretended to trip over something, spilling all her papers over the floor. It really looked convincing.

The guard immediately bowed down along with her.

"Here, let me help you." he said and started to gather up the papers.

"God, this is so stupid." she breathed, as if honestly embarrassed. "I mean … I didn´t even trip over anything, did I?"

"Can happen." the man replied with a shrug.

What was that, Mary wondered, that women were able to lie so convincingly, right into the face of a man they didn´t even know? He waited a little longer, until the guard had turned his bowed back to the door, fishing for a stubborn paper, and then quickly slipped through the door, to the holding cells. If his accomplice even saw him, she didn´t let it show.

Behind the door it was dark. The light fell in through the small window, but that was pretty much it. Of course, there was no need for light in here. First, it was night time and second, the only prisoner was sedated and slept anyway, if he wanted or not.

Mary silently opened the cell and snuck in, closing the door behind himself. He quickly turned off the IV that stood next to the sleeping man and then he waited. A minute. Two.

Eventually he bowed down and shook Peter. No reaction.

Mary straightened his back again. He reached into his inner pocket, producing a small bottle of water. He opened it and drenched his hand with the water, before snipping his fingers, sprinkling drops of water into Peter´s face. Once, twice. He wet his hand again and repeated the action.

At last Peter squinted against the sensation, grunting. When he opened his eyes he flinched.

"What …?"

"Shhhhhhhhhhh." Mary held his finger before his own mouth, his eyes never leaving Peter´s. The young man pressed himself into the mattress, as if Mary had threatened him with a gun. "The guard´s still outside the door." he told him. "We must be quiet."

"You … You´re Mary, right?" Peter found his voice again. "I remember you."

"And so did I, Mr. Petrelli." the profiler nodded, sitting down on the edge of the cot. "I figured it would be a good idea to hear your part of the story."

Peter struggled up to his elbows. "Where´s my brother?" he demanded to know.

"I have no idea. He and Miss Stockwell left around seven, heading for their hotel stay. If they ever really got there is beyond my knowledge. But I could find out, of course."

"My brother is not himself." Peter hissed urgently. "Matt Parkman manipulated him, to believe what Shana told him. He´s a mind controller. This whole conspiracy is nothing but a charade in order to get to the President."

"To do what exactly?"

"To kill him. I need to get out of here. I need to get to my brother, to convince him about the mistakes he made. That all this is a lie. What´s that hotel he´s supposed to stay at?"

"The Royal Inn." Mary told him. "But how are you planing to get there? The door is guarded."

"I don´t need the door." Peter stood up, swaying a little. "Thanks for your help, Mary." he said when he´d overcome the dizziness. "I need to go now."

Mary guessed what would come next and when Peter shut his eyes, he lay a hand on his arm. For a moment he felt misplaced, as if he wasn´t even part of the structure of this universe anymore. And then the damp air of the holding cell was gone and he felt the fresh, slightly wet air on his face. He turned his head and found himself standing in an allay, across the street from the Royal Inn.

"What …?" Peter yanked his arm away from him. "What are you doing?"

"Really amazing." Mary exclaimed, oblivious to the younger man´s reaction.

"Why did you do this?" Peter cried.

"I might be able to help you, Mr. Petrelli."

"Those guys we´re dealing with are dangerous. They´re armed."

Mary smiled at him solemnly. "I might be a profiler, Peter, but I had shooting lessons too." he told him. "Don´t worry about me."

Peter looked at him, one brow raised. "Do you even carry a gun, Mary?" he asked. When he didn´t get an answer, he merely sighed in exasperation. "Fine." he growled, giving it up. "Come on."

**...**

They were right in the middle of searching the hotel suite, when Sylar´s cell phone started to ring. He took it out, checking the display. When he read the name on it, he answered the call immediately, turning his back to Shawn, as if ashamed.

"Mohinder."

"Sylar." came the harsh reply. "Where are you?"

The killer threw an uncertain glance at Shawn. "Why do you ask?"

"Don´t play games with me." Mohinder hissed. "I know you´re not at Shawn´s place anymore. Is he with you?"

Again Sylar met Shawn´s gaze. "Yes, he is with me."

"And where are you two?" Mohinder demanded to know.

"Dude, don´t tell him." Shawn hissed, knowing exactly what this was about. "We´re on a secret mission."

"I´m not gonna lie to him." Sylar objected, holding the phone to his chest.

"Since when?"

"You told me to be honest."

"Yes, but you can start with that tomorrow. Dammit."

Sylar just gave him a face and turned back to the phone. "We´re in Washington, Mohinder."

Shawn cursed, silently.

"What are you doing there?" the geneticist demanded to know.

"We had a feeling that Matt might need help." Sylar told him. "And it turned out we were right."

For a moment it was silent on the other end and Sylar just knew that Mohinder had paled at this.

"What happened?" he asked.

"It seems when Matt tried to get to Nathan, he was already gone." Sylar summarized for him. "He and Shana left the hotel some hours ago. Matt sent Shana´s men out to turn themselves in over … a few corners. At this point we have no idea where Matt went after that. Or where Shana took Nathan." He halted in the middle of his speech, suddenly realizing something. "But I might have an idea where." he mumbled, more to himself than to Mohinder.

"Where?" Shawn and Mohinder ask him simultaneously, but in this moment, all Sylar could hear was a voice that he only remembered. It was Bennet who spoke the words, only a few hours ago.

"_No one gets near the President just like this. Not even a recently resurrected senator."_

"_Although that fact should speed up the usual procedure quiet a bit."_

Sylar felt how a smile graced his own lips. "Lassiter was absolutely right." he breathed, shaking his head. "This story might indeed shorten the process of being received in audience."

Shawn stared at him and only a second later he understood.

"Dude." he cried excited, speaking quietly, as if afraid someone would listen in. "They´re heading for the White House." he hissed, his words almost inaudible towards the end of his sentence. "That´s where they go. They´re gonna do it tonight." He gestured around wildly in his excitement. "They´re probably at it right in this moment, we need to get there. Now."

"What did he say?" Sylar heard Mohiner ask over the phone.

"I´m sorry, Mohinder, but I gotta go." he said and hung up, facing Shawn. "You know what´s going to happen if we go there and we´re wrong." he told him.

"Oh, they are there." Shawn insisted. "Believe me. I just know it."

Sylar didn´t question this any longer, just nodded.

"All right. Kill the lights."

**...**

"Wait! Sylar?" Mohinder cried into his cell phone but the connection was gone. "Dammit." he cursed.

"What did he say?" a voice asked behind him. Not Gus.

Mohinder swirled around. Bennet and Lassiter were standing at the corner of Henry Spencer´s veranda, looking at them from out of the shadow.

"Where did you come from?" Mohinder demanded to know.

Bennet threw a glance at Gus. "We were watching him."

"Watching me?" the young man cried scandalized.

"While you were watching Shawn." Bennet nodded. "Seems we had the same idea." He turned back to Mohinder, asking: "Where are they?"

"I bet they´re in Washington." Lassiter blurred out, before Mohinder could say it. "That´s as ridiculous as Spencer could get." He looked at Mohinder. "Am I right?"

Mohinder nodded.

"What?" Gus cried in disbelieve. "How did they get there?"

"The same way Sylar and I got to L.A." Mohinder told him. "And this ability will also bring them to the White House. Shawn seems to believe Shana and Nathan will try to assassinate the President tonight."

Lassiter huffed in annoyance. "Idiot."

"We need to get there too." Bennet decided. "We need to stop them. Before they reach the President."

A third person suddenly stepped out of the dark, from behind Lassiter.

"Who do you mean with they?" Juliet demanded to know, startling Lassiter into a jump.

"O´Hara, where the hell did _you_ just come from?" he cried.

"I´m your partner, Carlton." she informed him. "I know when you´re up to something." She faced Bennet with demanding eyes. "Answer my question. Who do you want to stop?"

The face Noah gave her was unreadable. "Whoever might try to kill the President."

"You think Sylar will try that, don´t you?" she guessed rightly, crossing her arms. "Why? What makes you think he had a reason to do that?"

"He tried to become President before." Noah answered, unimpressed by her interrogation. "That´s why he killed Nathan three years ago."

"That was three years ago." she held against it.

"Not anymore." Mohinder spoke up, making her turn around to him, startled. "In the timeline we saw, Sylar´d made it to presidency." he told her. "He remembers that too."

"And he might want to get back what he lost." Bennet nodded in agreement, approvingly.

"Shawn is with him." Juliet recalled after a moment of uncertainty. "He won´t allow that."

Bennet threw her a doubting gaze. "You really think he would stand a chance against Sylar?"

This time Juliet did not give a response, even cringed a little under Bennet´s stare.

Mohinder gulped dryly, nodding when Bennet faced him again.

"I go and wake Hiro."

**...**

The room was relatively small, nobly decorated with furniture that looked as expensive as they looked colonial. A laptop was left on the table but other than that there was barely anything in this place that looked as if it belonged to the 21st century. Shawn looked around in surprise.

"Dude. Where are we?" he asked. "I thought we wanted to get into the White House."

"We are in the White House." Sylar informed him, making his way over to the door.

"Seriously?" Shawn looked around, once again. "I thought it would be … you know … a little bigger."

Sylar only smiled and opened the door, only a creek, to peek out into the corridor. "The real big rooms are out there." he whispered. "But so is the security."

Shawn joined him at the door, peeking through the space between the door and Sylar´s shoulder.

"What do we do?" he whispered.

"Wait here." Sylar ordered, without even looking at him. "I´ll get us something that´ll help us walk around here more freely."

"Like what?"

"The face of a secret service agent." Sylar answered confidently. "I´ll put one of them to sleep and borrow his face. After that I come back and get you. Do me a favor and stay put this time. If they see you, they´ll shoot you."

Shawn snorted, quietly. "I worked for the President for three years." he recalled. "You don´t need to tell me how paranoid some of these guys react." And on the spur of the moment he added, conversationally: "Did you know I took the secret service exam?"

Sylar tilted his head back, frowning at him. "You did?" When Shawn nodded proudly, he shook his head. "Where did you get the codes to log in to the FBI database?" he wanted to know. "These tests are classified."

Shawn only shrugged. "You didn´t cover your hands very well the other day." he said. "Or should I say … President Petrelli didn´t cover his hands very well?"

Sylar raised a brow at this comment, catching the hint immediately, and turned back to the door. Halfway through the motion, he halted though, frowning, remembering.

"That´s how you found Tobias Mason." he realized, turning back to Shawn in disbelieve.

Shawn smiled proudly, nodding eagerly to affirm the guess. „Just … don´t tell anyone." he begged, making the killer and one-time-President smile at him.

"Don´t worry." he promised.

Shawn blinked. "Dude, this is kinda weird." he found. "That we´re talking about a lifetime that never happened."

"Yeah." Sylar agreed. "But that could actually help us."

"How so?"

"You think those entry codes are still in work?" and to underline his words, he pointed at the laptop on the table behind Shawn. "Have a look at this." he suggested. "Try it and if it works, see if senator Petrelli is already in the building."

"Check." Shawn´s heartbeat sped up when he hurried over to the laptop and opened it. "I saw something like that on 24 once." he told Sylar excitedly. "I know how to do that. I watched Chloe do that maybe a dozen times."

Once again Sylar smiled at his excitement, nodding approvingly. He opened the door a little more, checking the perimeter again.

"I´m back in a few." he said and slipped out.

Shawn didn´t even look after him. He was totally consumed with the hacker attack he was in the process of performing. Oh, he just wished Gus could see him now.


	20. It's a long Way into the White House

**It´s a long way into the White House**

Hiro was sleeping in the armchair right next to Molly, a woollen blanket Henry Spencer had given him, neatly pulled around him. His spectacles were still on his nose, so he´d probably fallen asleep without wanting it. When Mohinder touched his shoulder, Hiro jumped, shouting some quick words in Japanese.

"Shhh. Hiro." Mohinder hissed, squeezing his arm to help him come to, back from the dream. "It´s me. You need to wake up."

"Oh." the young Japanese sighed, sinking back into the armchair. "Dr. Suresh. Uh-what happened?"

"We need to get to Washington." Mohinder told him, moving over to the couch, to sit down, next to Molly. He lay a hand on her shoulder and shook her, gently but firm. They needed to hurry.

"Washington?" Hiro murmured, shoving his glasses back up his nose. Mohinder didn´t respond.

"Molly." he whispered urgently. "Molly, you need to wake up."

The girl opened her eyes, almost instantly, blinking against the sleep. "Mohinder?"

"Sorry to wake you." he whispered. "But I need your help."

Molly was awake at once, sitting up as if she´d never slept. "What is it?" she asked, instinctively adapting to his whisper tone.

"You need to tell me where Sylar is. And quickly."

She was fully awake at once.

"Why?"

"He and Shawn went to Washington and we need to go after them. You need to tell me where exactly they are. Especially Sylar."

"He´ll do something bad, won´t he?"

Something inside Mohinder felt tight for a moment, regarding the fact that she´d assumed that right away.

"We don´t know." That was as far as he was willing to go in admitting anything. "That´s why we need to find him. Quickly."

She immediately closed her eyes, determined, and started searching. An expression of shock rushed over her face, only for a second.

"He´s in the White House."

"Where exactly?" Mohinder probed for details.

The frown on her forehead deepened with her concentration.

"Second floor." she specified, professionally. "In an empty office room. West side of the story."

Mohinder was on his feet in an instant.

"Hiro, you need to bring me there. Right now."

The younger man touched his shoulder, ready to go. And was stopped the very next second.

"You didn´t forget about us, doctor, did you?" Noah Bennet stepped forward, scrutinizing them both, in disbelieve. "I thought your trip to this other reality taught you your lesson." he asked.

"It did. And that means that Sylar´s my responsibility." Mohinder was desperate, to make the Company man believe him, to let him go, before it was too late. "If he should really try to take over Presidency again." he said. "It´s my responsibility to stop him."

The scrutinizing gaze intensified some more. "It´s too dangerous for you to go after him alone." Bennet spoke, eventually. "We´ll come with you."

But Mohinder shook his head. "If you attack him, he´ll fight you. He won´t fight me."

"And you know that."

"Yeah." Mohinder ignored the obvious doubt in Bennet´s voice. He couldn´t afford to discuss this now.

"In that case," Juliet spoke up, interrupting the argument before it could get started. "_I_ should go with you." she decided. "He won´t fight me either."

Mohinder met her gaze, determined like his own, and nodded. They understood each other.

"O´Hara."

"It´s all right, Carlton." she turned to him, calm and professional. "_If _Sylar should try what you expect … I will not let it happen."

"Neither will I." Mohinder agreed.

"Neither will I." Gus added, much to everyone's surprise. But not one of the asking faces could startle the young man. "It´s my best friend out there." he explained himself, almost fiercely. "I´m coming with you."

Bennet regarded the three of them, for a long moment, studying their faces, determined and unwavering and eventually he gave in.

"All right. You go after Sylar then." He turned his head, to face Lassiter. "And we take care of Nathan."

The detective nodded in agreement.

"Stay in contact." Bennet demanded, his eyes fixed on Mohinder, only for a moment. "Come back as soon as you dropped them off." he ordered Hiro.

The teleporter nodded, determined and took Mohinder's arm, at last. The geneticist took Juliet´s hand, while Juliet joined hands with Gus and barely three seconds later, they were gone, only thin air left behind, where they had stood.

Lassiter turned to Noah, eyes burning.

"You really let them go after this bastard alone?"

"Depends on." Noah would not be intimidated by the detective´s anger. He turned around to the girl on the couch. "Molly. Tell us where_ Nathan_ is right now."

**...**

Shawn smiled to himself. Man, he was so good. Better than he´d expected himself. The computer before him just showed him the information he´d wanted to find, exactly what he needed. The visitors list of the White House. And it said that senator Petrelli and his acquaintance Miss Shana Stockwell had entered the building – in fact just a few minutes ago, seems he and Sylar´d had a perfect timing.

"Cleared to Visiting Dignitary Suite" Shawn mumbled to himself, still smiling like a maniac over how good he was. "Sweet." he cheered. "I´ve got him." A second later he halted, blinking. "Who am I telling that?" he asked into the empty room, but of course he got no answer.

Eventually he shrugged and turned back to the computer. Now all he needed to do was wait for Sylar to come back here and he could show him his triumph. How long was he gone by now? He looked at his wristwatch. How long could it possibly need to knock out a guy and come back here in his disguise?

A strange sound came up behind him and Shawn turned around, expecting to see Sylar standing in the door. Instead he faced four totally unexpected people.

"Shawn." Jules and Gus cried out, simultaneously.

"Jules." Shawn stood up, startled over the hug she gave him. "Gus. Guys what are you doing here?"

"Saving you, of course." Gus cried.

"Saving me? From what? I´m perfectly save."

Mohinder shook his head, very serious. "Where´s Sylar?"

"Oh, he´s right back." Shawn told them, pointing a thumb at the door. "He went outside to get a disguise."

"And you just let him go?" the geneticist cried, rushing to the door, to peek outside.

"Why not? He´ll be right back."

Mohinder shook his head, after he´d checked the hallway. "We need to find him. Before it´s too late."

Shawn spread his arms, totally lost by now. "Too late for what?"

**...**

Molly´s eyes were closed once again, the frown on her forehead deeper than ever.

"He´s in the White House." she told them Nathan Petrelli´s location, her voice even and professional, almost like a computer that put out data. "They just entered. They are at the reception in the big entrance hall."

Noah nodded. "They won´t stay there for long." he decided, glancing at Carlton. They had to find a way to get there, before Nathan and Shana reached the President.

"Come on Hiro." he murmured into the room. "What are you waiting for?"

**...**

"Shawn, I need you to stay put, okay?" Juliet demanded, peeking out the door, gun at the already.

"Put?" Shawn cried. "Why does everybody want me to stay put? Do you really think I would get caught in an instant?"

"Yes." Juliet, Gus and Hiro answered him unisono. Shawn frowned, mostly at Hiro, who at least had the decency to react with shame.

"Dude. Really?"

"We need to hurry." Mohinder urged and with that he was out of the door.

"You guys stay here." Juliet repeated her order. "Let _us_ take care of this. Gus. Make sure he stays here."

Gus nodded.

"But Jules …" Shawn wanted to object but she was already gone, following Mohinder outside.

"I need to leave too." Hiro told them. "The others are waiting for me." And with that he shut his eyes, disappearing into thin air.

...

"Finally." Noah cheered, when Hiro reappeared in Henry´s living room and grabbed the teleporter´s shoulder. "We need to go now."

"Where?" Hiro asked, eagerly, looking at the detective, who grasped his other shoulder.

"The White House."

"To where Shawn and the others are?"

But here, Noah shook his head. "No."

"No?" Lassiter echoed.

"We don´t know where Nathan´s heading. The try to go after him can only end in a disaster. Trespassing in the White House? We´d only get ourselves captured and charged for treason. No, we have to go the same way Nathan went. Through the front door."

Lassiter understood at once and so did Hiro. He nodded and smiling shoved his glasses up his nose.

**...**

"Dude. This is not gonna work." Shawn shook his head, walking up and down the small room. "Not at all."

"We´re staying here, Shawn." Gus insisted, stubbornly blocking the door. "You have no idea what´s going on."

"Oh, I know what´s going on. I know that Petrelli is already in the building."

"What? How do you know? You saw him?"

"No. But he´s listed."

Gus frowned, cocking his head in confusion.

"Look at this." Shawn waved for him, to see the computer and Gus followed him, tentatively. When he saw what was on the screen, he stared at Shawn, wide eyed.

"How did you get access to this system?" he cried. "That´s the most classified computer system in the world."

"I had the codes." Shawn told him proudly and earned himself a scrutinizing gaze from his friend. "I worked for this government, okay?" he cried, suddenly feeling defensive. "In this other … version … of our life. Listen, it doesn´t matter. What matters is that Petrelli is already in the building and probably in the process of killing the President right now." he pointed at the ground, bobbing, to emphasize the urgency of his words and finally, finally Gus understood.

"Oh, my god." he breathed. "What do we do?"

"We need to get there." Shawn told him. "To the … visitor´s … waiting lounge."

"The what?"

"The … waiting room for visitors?"

"Shawn." Gus raised a brow. "You have no idea where this room is, do you?"

"Unfortunately I was never invited into the White House." Shawn crossed his arms, defensively.

"Fortunately," Gus gave him a patronizing smirk. "I have studied the plans of the White House for years. I know exactly where we have to go."

"You don´t."

"I do. It´s in the second story on the left side."

"Dude, sweet." Shawn held out his fist and Gus bumped it. "Let´s get to it."

**...**

"Don´t you want to understand us?" Lassiter cried, slowly losing his patience about this stubborn receptionist. "I just told you, the President is in danger."

"I understood you very well, sir." the young woman, responsible for the White House´s entrance hall replied, one eyebrow cocked upwards. "But this is not a TV show. And if you noticed, this building is a hundred percent secured."

"Did senator Petrelli walk in here earlier?" Bennet asked, before Lassiter could yell at her. "He did, didn´t he?" he confirmed his own guess, regarding her reaction. "You must not let him come near the President. He´ll try to kill him."

"And how´s he going to do that?" the receptionist asked, back to her arrogant self. "With his long nails? Neither the senator nor his company had any kind of weapon on them and they left all metallic objects with me before they entered. Just like everybody who enters this building."

"But …" Hiro cried. "We know he will try to assassinate. The man you let in here is dangerous."

"Lady, I´m a police detective." Lassiter took over again. "Not some crazy guy that tries to imitate Jack Bauer. So if you´ll just listen to us …"

"You are a colleague of detective Parkman?" she interrupted him, with a frown, making him halt.

"Yes." Bennet affirmed after a moment of shock. "Why, is he here?"

"He came in a few minutes ago." she confirmed with a nod.

"And _he_ was just allowed to get in?" Lassiter cried scandalized.

The eyes of the woman before them dropped, in uncertainty.

Bennet threw Lassiter a brief side glance.

"I´m sure you had your reasons to let him in, Ma´am." he said. "But the fact that we´re colleagues of detective Parkman, should tell you, that what we´re talking about is a very real and a very present danger. You need to call in and tell them to keep Nathan Petrelli away from the President. Right now."

**...**

Shawn hurried to stand behind Gus, at the corner. The fourth or fifth one by now, or so it seemed to him. When had they left that tiny office to find their way through this building? An hour ago? He attempted to look at his watch but let it be.

"Dude." he hissed at Gus instead. "I thought you know where we´re going."

"I do." Gus insisted angrily. "We just have to …" He peeked around the corner again and jumped back, facing a gun.

Shawn gasped but his shriek died in his throat when he realized that the two people before them, were not Secret Service but a blonde detective from Santa Barbara and a dark geneticist from India.

"I told you guys to stay put." Juliet hissed at them.

"We don´t have the time to stay put." Shawn hissed back at her, more urgent than actually necessary. "The President´s life is in danger, dammit."

"Shawn." Gus spoke but Shawn ignored him.

"We can´t just hide in a closet." he went on with his performance. "We need to go out there and do what´s necessary."

"Shawn."

"What?"

"You´re aware of the fact that you´re not Jack Bauer."

"I know." Shawn finally dropped the act, smiling. "But, dammit, it feels good to get into that guy´s head." he exhaled. "There´s so much energy, it´s … liberating. Seriously, you need to try that."

"I´d rather not."

Mohinder peeked back around the corner, making sure no one was alarmed by their banter – and promptly spotted a Secret Service Agent at the far end of the hall. He skipped back, in shock, but the agent was not even paying attention. Not to them at least. In fact he seemed to be very much lost in his own world, one hand gently striding over the top of a bureau.

Mohinder frowned, watching the guy idly walking on, vanishing behind the corner.

Of course Mohinder had no confirmation whatsoever about this man´s identity, but something in his guts just screamed that this was, had to be Sylar. He slipped around the corner, to follow him.

"Guys." Juliet was still trying to end the useless banter about Jack Bauer´s behavior on 24, which was starting to drive her crazy. "Would you just … Guys, you … Just stop it!" she shouted, making them both look at her, startled. "This is exactly the reason why I told you to stay put."

Shawn and Gus looked from her to something behind her, and their eyes went wide.

"Is there a problem here?" a male voice asked and Juliet jumped, swirling around to face the placid face of a Secret Service Agent. Her mouth dropped open, in a silent gasp.

Shawn raised his finger.

"Indeed there is." he answered the rhetorical question. "It seems we lost our way. Could you tell us where we find the visitors waiting laundry?"

The Secret Service man frowned and Gus smiled, apologetic.

"He means the Visiting Dignitaries Suite." he clarified. "We´re looking for senator Petrelli."

"And you are?" the agent wanted to know.

"Shawn Spencer. Psychic detective. And sometimes …"

"How did you get in here?" the man interrupted him, getting more and more suspicious. "Can you show me your clearances?"

"I´m sorry." Juliet finally found her voice again. "My name is detective Juliet O´Hara." she introduced herself, doing her best to keep up her usual and oh so desperately needed routine as a figure of authority. "We have strong reasons to believe that senator Petrelli or someone else might plan an attack at the President." she explained. After she´d finished she needed to take a deep breath, to steady her nerves. God, that was intense.

The agent before her only eyed her with hard and wary eyes. "I repeat my question." he said. "Who gave you clearance?"

"Did you hear a single word we said?" Shawn cried impatiently. "The President is in danger. You need to do something, right now."

The agent regarded him with this cold stare of his and raised his arm, speaking into his sleeve.

"This is agent Tanner in sector seven." he spoke one hand on his gun. "I have three unidentified people here without clearances. Please, send backup immediately."

"What?" Shawn cried. "No. It´s not us. Someone else is after the President."

"Please, step back and take your hands behind your back."

"It´s Petrelli." Shawn kept on trying to convince the guy. "He´s the one who …"

He got interrupted by the sound of at least a dozen guns being cocked all around him, and swirled around, to the circle of Secret Service Agents.

"Right now." Tanner demanded.

"All right." Shawn cried, admittedly impressed. "All right, my hands are up. Here. You see my hands? Gus, show them your hands."

"That´s what I´m doing, Shawn."

"Take them into custody." Tanner ordered.

**...**

Mohinder had no idea what was going on behind him. All he could think of right now was the man ahead of him, in the hallway behind that corner. The man that was not a Secret Service Agent.

"Sylar." he called and the man halted, turning back to him, startled.

A smile graced his lips.

"Mohinder." the strange voice called, and he came walking back, eagerly. "What are you doing here?"

A moment later he got thrown against the wall, pushed by Mohinder's angry grip.

"I could ask you the same." he hissed into his face. "You told Shawn you´d come back to get him. Now I find you here, disguised as Secret Service, heading for the Oval Office. Tell me what I´m supposed to think."

But before Sylar could answer him, there were sounds from behind the corner, that made them both turn around.

"Search the perimeter." someone shouted.

Mohinder only felt a hand grab his arm and drag him behind. A door he hadn´t even noticed, opened and then he was in the dark, sounds of people in the hallway, sounding faint through the closed door. Secret Service was looking for them. Oh, god. Shawn and the others.

Mohinder stayed quiet, holding his breath, until the voices faded away again.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed at Sylar.

"Shut up." Sylar hissed right back at him. "They´ll hear us."

Mohinder grabbed his arm and Sylar fended him off. He halted, listened, but it was silent outside. Eventually he huffed and switched on the light.

"Stop this charade already." Mohinder hissed at the false Secret Service Agent before him.

Sylar glared but turned back to himself after a moment. "You didn´t come here to help me after all, did you?" he asked, as if he had a reason to be insulted by that fact.

"I came here to stop you." Mohinder said.

Sylar stared at him. "You honestly think I came here to …" he gaped. "I´m not the enemy here. Did Bennet tell you this?"

"I don´t need Bennet to tell me what to think. I know you long enough."

"Then you should know better than that."

"Should I?"

Sylar´s jaw was clenching. "Yes." he rasped.

"Okay." Mohinder raised a brow. "Why _did_ you come here? What was your plan when you headed for the President of the United States, Sylar?"

"I came here to set a trap." Sylar answered, after a moment of glaring. "For Nathan."

"And then?"

"What do you mean, and then? I´d stop him."

"So you wanted to wait for Nathan. How? As the Secret Service Agent?"

Sylar didn´t answer.

"As the President?"

Still no answer. Mohinder nodded.

"See. That´s exactly what I´m talking about."

"You have no idea what you´re talking about."

"What did you plan to do with the real President?" Mohinder demanded to know.

"Not killing him." Sylar grumbled. "I would have thought of something."

"And then what? What would have happened after you stopped Nathan and saved the day? Who guarantees me, that you won´t be tempted to just keep that place you took? I believe it would be easy to convince the world that the real President is the impersonator."

Sylar´s eyes were dark, darker than Mohinder expected it. "That was not my intention." he rasped.

"Doesn´t mean it wouldn´t happen." Mohinder insisted. He had to. "I know you, Sylar. I know how much you liked it to be President. Don´t try to tell me otherwise."

There was something in the killer´s glare, something that made him look as if he were actually pouting.

"You´re right." he admitted, at last. "I can´t guarantee it. That I won´t be tempted. Because I would. Of course I would." He took a deep breath. "But I still wouldn´t do it."

"You wouldn´t?"

"No. Because you guys would know who I really was. So what would I gain by taking his place? You´d never allow it, would you?"

Mohinder stared at him, surprised, just a little. "No." he answered and Sylar nodded.

"See. So what would I gain by doing it?"

"If that is supposed to make me trust you, you fail." he told the killer, skipping back a little, but Sylar made up for his retrieve.

"Then come with me." he urged. "Let´s do this together. You can keep me in line, like you always did."

Mohinder was taken aback, just for a moment. He shook his head. "I never kept you in line. I only found you your victims."

He could see anger flash up in the killer´s eyes. "You´re stuck in a past that didn´t even happen." Sylar cried.

"It did happen. Don´t deny what we both know is true. Just because no one else remembers, doesn´t make it undone. You killed people that I found for you and the fact that I was there with you, didn´t change any of that. No one could ever stop you if there´s something you want."

After this, it was Sylar who seemed taken aback, ever so slightly. His eyes were still hard, full of anger, but he gulped.

"You´re wrong." he said, voice cracking and he smiled, weakly, shaking his head. "So wrong."

Mohinder frowned, uncertain. "Come back with me." he said at last. "Peacefully. Let Bennet and Lassiter take care of Nathan."

But Sylar shook his head, stubbornly. "There´s no time."

"They´ll make time." Mohinder replied but Sylar only gave him a face. Yeah sure.

"Don´t make me fight you." the geneticist spoke, far too quiet to sound threatening. "I don´t want to. But I will."

Sylar seemed shocked, only for a moment. Eventually he smiled.

"You know what´s the worst part?" he asked and Mohinder couldn´t help but want to hear the rest of it. "I actually understand you." Sylar told him. "Why you hate me like that. Because it´s easier to hate than to forgive, right? It feels more real, more … right. Doesn´t it?" Sylar studied his shocked face, nodding as if Mohinder had agreed. "Especially considering who we both are. But there was a time and a place where you had forgiven me. Even though _I_ don´t know why. We were friends once. Once upon a time you trusted me. I want you to trust me again, Mohinder."

Mohinder stared at him, swallowing dryly. "What if I can´t?"

"Please, don´t say that. There´s always a chance. I know there is. We didn´t go through all this just to end here."

"You´re talking like in a soap opera, Sylar. Wake up. This is not a game. We´re in the White House and Secret Service is looking for you."

"Then help me get this done."

"I _can´t_ let you do this. I´m sorry."

Sylar´s expression didn´t change. "Because you can´t trust me." he spoke it out. "Right?"

Mohinder didn´t answer. He didn´t need to.

"Come back with me." he demanded instead, offering him his hand, hoping that this would put an end to this at last. "I´ll help you." he promised. "Just like before."

But Sylar shook his head. "Only it wouldn´t be like before. Would it?"

Mohinder looked into those inscrutable eyes of the killer before him, and didn´t know what to think. Sounds from outside in the hallway made Sylar turn his head, as if considering.

"Sylar." Mohinder spoke. "Don´t do it."

But Sylar already made up his mind. "I´m sorry, Mohinder." he spoke, turning back to him. "But you don´t leave me a choice."

"What do you m …"

He tried to fend off the killer´s hand but it was already too late.


	21. Security Breach

**Security Breach**

Matt Parkman had been forced to learn that having an idea of the blueprints and actually finding his way through the White House, were two different things. He´d convinced the receptionist to let him pass ten minutes ago. A huge amount of time, considering that no one would try to stop him. By now he should have found the place where Nathan and Shana were waiting for their chance to kill the President.

Still he was wandering around these halls, lost and frustrated about his own disability to find his way, now from all the times in the world. It was just ridiculous. How often did a small detective from L.A. have to actually save the President from getting assassinated? And he should fail because he got lost in all these corridors? Ridiculous. Where was the Secret Service when you needed them to ask for the way?

While he was still considering which of the two turns he should take, he heard footsteps approaching him from ahead. Not just one man, many, and he hid. When a whole delegation like this marched through the hallways of the White House, it automatically indicated something official and in the current situation, this just had to be related to Nathan´s presence here.

He opened a nearby door and slipped in, leaving a crack open, just enough so he´d be able to hear and see.

It turned out he was right. It was official. Not just a bit. It was the President himself who walked by, surrounded by five Secret Service men and a guy in suite and tie who wasn´t Secret Service. A secretary then, Matt guessed, but it was not the most important thing. What became important though was the call one of the agents received over his earwig. He listened for a moment, and then, just as the group was about to take the next turn, he stopped them.

"What is it?" The President demanded to know.

The agent was still listening to the message only he could hear, his face concentrated and serious. Eventually he faced the President.

"We just arrested three unidentified people, Mr. President." he informed him. "They were sneaking around on the second floor."

Matt´s heart skipped a beat. Three unidentified people? They were not talking about him, so who were they? Friends or more assassins, hired by Shana? The President and his assistant were paling at the information.

"Inside the White House?" the secretary cried.

"One of them says she´s a police officer." the agent specified, doubt visible in his eyes. "They claim that there is an assassination plot going on to kill you, Mr. President. And that senator Petrelli has something to do with it."

Matt lowered his eyes. Interesting.

"If that is true, we should put him under arrest and question him, sir." the secretary suggested, looking at the President for approval.

The President nodded, silently, a deep concerned frown on his face, and glanced down the hallway. That was the moment when Matt had to interfere.

The President hesitated, for a moment.

"No." he then decided, facing his men again. "If he really wants to kill me, he won´t run, as long as he doesn´t suspect anything. Let him wait. I want to talk to those people."

"Are you sure about this, sir?" the Secret Service Agent asked. "They could as well be the assassins themselves."

"Then make sure they´re no danger to me while I talk to them." the President's order didn´t leave any room for discussions. The agent straightened.

"Yes, sir."

With that the delegation turned around and headed back the way they´d come.

Matt left his hiding place, feeling uncomfortable. A police detective? Female police detective. Who could that be? Trespassing into the White House? He just hoped he didn´t send the President into a trap just now. But one thing was for sure. He would have run right up into a trap if he´d kept on walking down this hall. To meet Nathan Petrelli.

The identity of these mysterious three people was something he could deduct later, Matt decided. Right now he had to take care of Nathan and Shana. And now he knew where to find them. He turned around and headed down the corridor, into the direction the President had been heading, before he´d turned back.

He didn´t see the door opening further down the corridor, a minute later, Sylar sneaking out of it and walking away quietly, in the opposite direction.

**...**

Peter threw down the little black bible, he´d picked up from the nightstand, not even knowing why. It landed on the king sized bed, bouncing off the mattress and fell down to the floor. The rooms were empty. All four doors open, busted, by some force, they didn´t know. But since the hotel staff hadn´t called the police because of a burglary, he assumed it had been a quiet force. Something not quiet normal? But there were no other signs of a fight in here.

"That doesn´t make any sense." he blurred, angrily. "Where are they?"

He jumped, at the sound of the TV suddenly turning on. Mary Lightly stood before the screen, idly holding the remote in one hand. His other hand was hidden in his pocket and he looked at the screen as if he´d nothing better to do.

"I think I have an idea." he told Peter, gesturing for the tube.

The news were on, reporting about a recently solved bank robbery, here in Washington. Peter stepped to Mary´s side, watching with a frown, how the police led a dozen men away.

"That´s Perkins." Mary recognized one of them. "Miss Stockwell´s right hand. Those are her men."

Peter almost couldn´t believe it. "What did they do there?"

Mary only put up the volume of the TV.

"_As far as we know it," _the reporter spoke into the camera._ "they were heavily armed but had no ammunition in their guns whatsoever. The word goes that this information was given to the police by a psychic, that claims to work for the police in Santa Barbara. We have no confirmation about this yet but we´ll try to get a better statement ASAP."_

"A psychic from Santa Barbara?" Peter repeated. "That´s Shawn. He´s in D.C.?"

Mary idly raised an eyebrow. "Seems he is."

"Maybe he knows what happened." Peter cried, excitedly. "And where Nathan is."

Immediately he was at the phone that sat on the nightstand, picking up the receiver. His hand already hovered over the buttons.

"Damn, what was his number again?"

Mary reached into his pocket and got his cell phone out.

"I have it in my memory." he told him, pressing the respective speed dial button and handed the phone to Peter.

**...**

"I hope you´re aware of the fact that you´ll be charged for treason." Secret Service Agent Larry Thomas cried, when he lost his patience. "Pretending that you´re insane, won´t save you here."

"I´m not pretending to be insane." the man named Shawn Spencer cried offended. "I _am_ psychic and I tell you, I had a vision of Nathan Petrelli assassinating the President." He faced the man in question, the man Thomas was trained to protect. "He´ll try kill you." he told him but didn´t get a response. "Please, you´ve got to believe us." he faced Thomas again, who only crossed his arms. "We´re not the bad guys here. We snuck in here without permission but only with the best interest in mind."

Thomas faced his black friend.

"I plead the Fifth." he stated, immediately.

That was the moment, when a sound coming from Shawn Spencer´s pocket made Thomas and all of his men jump, all of them immediately pulling their guns on the suspect.

"Wow, wait." Shawn skipped back in his seat. "Wait, that´s just my phone." he reached into his pocket to get it out, very slowly. "Just my cell phone, you see? I´ll put it out."

"Give me that." Thomas demanded.

Spencer obediently handed the phone over and Thomas checked the device, warily. Eventually he pushed the green button, answering the call.

"Yeah?"

"Shawn." a male voice cried into his ear. "It´s Peter. Where are you? Are you in Washington?"

Thomas threw a glance at the man sitting in the chair before him. "You can say that." he answered the caller´s question.

A brief hesitation. Then: "Who´s that?"

"This is Agent Thomas, Secret Service."

Another brief silence. "Where´s Shawn?" the caller wanted to know.

Thomas straightened. "Sir, the person you´re referring to was arrested for trespassing into the White House."

Unseen by agent Thomas, Peter Petrelli´s eyebrows went up in disbelieve.

"Trespassing into the White House?" he repeated, looking at Mary Lightly irritated.

The FBI profiler only raised one brow, his face placid with a tiny smile. "Simply amazing."

"Sir, I need you to identify yourself." the Secret Service Agent demanded now, drawing Peter back to his senses.

"Listen." he said. "My name is Peter Petrelli, I´m senator Nathan Petrelli´s brother. You need to warn the President. My brother has been manipulated to kill the President. If he comes to the White House …"

"Interesting." agent Thomas interrupted the flood of words. "You´re the third person tonight that tells us that story."

He eyed the three prisoners in front of him, trying to think.

"What did he say?" the President wanted to know, stepping forward.

Thomas faced him, tentatively. "Practically the same thing these three told us." he answered at last.

The frown on the President's forehead deepened a little. After a moment of consideration, he held out his hand.

"Let me talk to him."

Thomas hesitated but eventually handed the phone over.

"Mr. Petrelli? This is the President speaking."

**...**

Matt´s hand grasped around the door handle. He listened, taking a deep breath, his other hand fastening the grip on his gun. Then he opened the door.

The two people were sitting idly in their chairs, a picture of pure innocence. Only that they weren´t. When Shana saw him, she jumped up from her seat. So did Nathan, but other than her, he didn´t panic. He only looked irritated, to see him here.

Shana´s gaze said something more, talked about another form of determination. When she headed for him, Matt raised his gun.

"Freeze." he ordered, his voice cold and even.

Shana froze, her eyes lingering between him and his gun, a fierce anger burning just beneath the surface. She knew, just had to know, that he´d turned the table and that her control over him was gone.

"Parkman, what the hell are you doing?" Nathan asked, irritated.

"Nathan, I need you to stay calm." Matt spoke, still not ready to take his eyes off Shana. "I´ll explain everything. But first I need _you_," and now he addressed Shana. "To take some steps back."

"How did you get a gun in here?" Nathan was clearly worried.

"Is that a serious question?" Matt replied and immediately turned his attention back to Shana. "Back off, I said."

She glared at him, but eventually obeyed, slowly taking one step after the other backwards, until she´d reached the chair she´d been sitting in.

"Sit." Matt demanded.

She obeyed.

Nathan made a step towards him and Matt aimed the gun at him. Nathan stopped, raising both hands in surrender. The gun found Shana again.

"Don´t worry, Nathan." Parkman said. "You´ll understand it soon."

He reached out, for his mind.

**...**

"Do you have any proof for what you just told me, Mr. Petrelli?" the President of the United States asked, after a long silence.

Peter hesitated. "I might have." he replied, tentatively.

"And what is that?" the other man demanded to know.

Peter exchanged a glance with Mary Lightly and somehow he knew that Mary´d already guessed it. He nodded at the small profiler and took a step back from him. This time Mary didn´t try to grab his arm just in time, but only watched idly, how Peter closed his eyes, concentrating.

The first thing he heard when he reappeared in the White House, next to the man on the phone with him, was Shawn Spencer´s voice, crying out startled.

"Wow! Dude!"

The President, as well as all the Secret Service Agents around him, jumped, the agents pulling their guns. Peter barely batted an eye. He held the gaze of the man before him, he had to, and held up his hands, showing that he was unarmed.

"Mr. President." he spoke, calm and even. "I´m telling you the truth. I´m here to help. Let me see my brother, then I might be able to put an end to all of this."

**...**

Nathan Petrelli´s face had turned from slightly irritated to highly irritated. Matt was focused on the man´s eyes, trying his best to reverse the process he´d done, only a few days ago, when he´d put that lie into his head. That he had to kill the President of the United States. How stupidly classic, Matt thought to himself. And what an heroic and most of all patriotic act to stop him from doing it now. Add amused laughter when you feel like it.

But Matt didn´t care about irony or even moral right now. All he cared about was to repair the damage he´d caused. And now he was almost done. Nathan might be confused afterward, maybe shaken or even traumatized, but he would live. He wouldn´t get shot by the Secret Service. And most of all, he would be himself again.

Eventually Nathan started to blink, his eyes asking.

_What happened to me, Parkman? What´s going on?_

Matt did his best to let him know, to make him understand.

In her chair, Shana shifted her position, ever so slightly, her hand slowly wandering up to her face and eventually to the back of her head, fingers combing nervously through her hair. Matt barely noticed the movement. His eyes were still fixed on Nathan. He was almost done. Almost.

When Shana jumped out of her seat and leaped at him, he was still caught in his mental work, and when he tried to swirl his arm around, to aim the gun at her, he was too slow.

A hit from her and the gun was knocked out of his hand, scattering over the floor. He saw her raise her arm, something long and pointy in her hand, white, made of hard plastic. A hair stick. She brought it down on him, the sharp end aiming for his neck. And then a shot rang out and Shana´s body jerked.

Matt flinched, swirling around. A whole group of people stood in the door. An agent, still holding the gun.

Shana grunted, surprised, and stumbled backwards. The stabbing tool fell out of her hand, hitting the ground soundlessly. The tool they´d planned to use to kill the President.

Matt turned back to the people in the door.

Now that he had the time to actually see them, he met the eyes of Peter Petrelli. Behind him there were three civilians, two guys and a woman. The only people besides Peter who didn´t wear suites and ties. All three of them were staring at the scene with awe, uncertain.

Matt didn´t know what to say. He´d done what he came for, and considering the fact that they´d shot Shana first, was at least a reason to hope that he wouldn´t be the next to fall.

Peter stepped forward, only a little, his eyes jumping from Matt to the man behind him, to his brother. Nathan stood in his place, just like he´d done when Matt had walked in. He regarded the groaning Shana on the ground with a thoughtful frown, her pleading eyes looking up at him. But he didn´t respond, didn´t hurry to help her. Instead he looked up, confused, as if he realized, just now, where he was and that he wasn´t alone here.

Peter started to move, closely watched by the Secret Service Agent, who´d shot Shana, his eyes never leaving his brother. A brother he´d buried three years ago. The fear, the uncertainty, was so visible in his eyes, Matt didn´t even need to read his mind.

"Nathan?" he asked, voice trembling.

Nathan searched Matt´s gaze, for help, as if to ask him, if all this had really just happened. Matt nodded, relieved, encouraging. Yes. It was true. And it was over. Right? It just had to be.

Nathan faced his brother, shoulders tensed, as if he wasn´t sure himself. But then he nodded, affirmative, taking a shaky breath. And Matt understood that the only reason why Nathan was still standing so steady in his place was because his legs wouldn´t move.

"It´s all right, Pete." he spoke at last, his voice shaking. His eyes flew to Matt one last time, nodding at him gratefully.

"It´s me." he found, needing to say it out loud to believe it himself. When he faced his brother again, his voice was a little more even. "The real me."

Peter staggered forward, one leg at a time, and Matt wasn´t sure if the young man even knew he was moving. When he finally reached his brother, it was, for this brief moment in time, as if the two of them were the only people in the room. When Peter reached out a hand, Nathan nodded, as if to encourage him, to stop doubting.

"I´m still here, Pete." he said, looking around the room for a second, taking in the reality of all this. "I don´t know how but … I am."

Those words, along with his brother´s hand resting on his shoulder, was all Peter needed, to know that this man before him was indeed the one he´d grown up with. And that he was real.

„Aaaawwww." Shawn Spencer exclaimed moved, when the two brothers fell into each others arms.

The Secret Service Agents lowered their guns.

**...**

It was dark, the air radiating the dull feeling of a small and closed room. The ground was hard beneath him, his shoulder blades poking into his flesh when he moved, trying to wake up. Where was he? Why was his bed so hard? And somewhere during the night he must have lost his pillow too.

Mohinder turned his head, trying to see. This wasn´t his room. Where was he? He eased himself up. He was on the ground, in a strange room, in the dark. Outside he heard faint sounds. And then he remembered.

Sylar!

He was up in an instant, looking around. It had really happened. He really was in the White House. Sylar had put him to sleep, once again, and that meant he´d lost a lot of precious time. Maybe too much already.

Immediately he was outside, running down the corridor. He took the turn … and ran straight into an agent, who immediately pulled his gun on him.

**...**

"Dude, this is awesome." Shawn cheered, holding out his fist for Gus. "We just saved the President."

"Whaaaat." Gus bumped his fist, smiling proudly.

"You, sir, are still under arrest." agent Thomas stated, matter of factly. "So is everybody who was involved in all this."

"What?" Shawn cried. "Seriously?"

"Until we evaluated without any doubt who´s responsible." Thomas turned to face the rest of the group.

Juliet didn´t say anything, she just nodded. So did Matt Parkman, in the exact same humble way.

"I´ll do my best to answer your questions." Nathan Petrelli promised, exchanging a glance with his brother. Peter smiled.

"All right, all right." Shawn groaned. "Let´s get started with it. I want to be home before midnight. There´s a Chips marathon starting at twelve."

"Shawn, an investigation like that can take days." Juliet let him know and when he glanced at her bewildered, she added: "Sometimes even weeks."

"Are you kidding? Who´s gonna give water to my plants?"

"You don´t have any plants, Shawn." Gus mentioned. "But I have a job." he addressed agent Thomas. "And my boss won´t be happy if I´m late for work tomorrow. So I would appreciate it, if someone from your staff could take care of this … little issue and, you know like … give him a call, to explain that I´m delayed. You should try to break it down to him in a gentle way though. You know, that I´m involved in a federal investigation … he doesn´t like it when I work outside my field."

Thomas only looked at Gus, one brow raised, frowning, both at once. Shawn thought it looked hilarious. Almost as good as Lassie when he was confused.

"What was your name again?" Thomas asked.

"Gus. Burton Guster. I´m a pharmaceutical salesman, for …"

"Agent Thomas." someone called from down the corridor, interrupting Gus, and Shawn thought this was probably a good thing. Two other agents came up to them, a bewildered looking Mohinder in tow.

"This man says he belongs to them." the agent reported to Thomas.

"Dude, where have you been?" Shawn cried. "You missed the whole thing."

"What happened?" Mohinder asked immediately. "Where´s Sylar? What did he do?"

"Sylar?" Nathan spoke up, looking at his brother, worried.

Peter frowned, unsure, and glanced at Shawn. Everybody seemed to glance at him. As if he should know. Shawn searched the gaze of his friend, the one who usually really knew what was going on, when he didn´t. But Gus only shook his head, as clueless as everybody.

"Dude." Shawn exclaimed. "I totally forgot about that guy."

**...**

Outside in the rose garden, one man stood in the dark, alone, looking back at the house he´d just left. The house he´d lived in for three years, once in another life. But that life was over. Worse, it had never been. But if it never was, how could he remember it so clearly? Why? It was all so confusing. Mohinder had been right. He couldn´t trust himself anymore. How could he, if he couldn´t even trust his own memories?

Inside of there, things were back the way they were before. Somehow they´d managed it to fix the damage. But still … some things had changed. Too many things had changed. He was changed. And not for the better.

Sylar took out his cell phone, looking at it in silence. As if on cue it started to ring, also in silence, the display illuminated, showing him the name of the caller. Like a silent accusation, even now.

He didn´t answer the call. He knew what he was gonna say anyway. After a while the mute ringing stopped and his display showed him that he´d missed a call. Sylar smiled, sadly, and dropped the phone. It landed beneath a rose bush, still glowing in the dark down there.

It wasn´t easy for him to leave it behind. He´d numbers in the memory. Mohinder's of course, but also Shawn´s, Juliet´s, Peter´s … Leaving the phone was like burning the last bridge back to his old life. But the life he remembered was gone. He wasn´t even sure if it had ever existed. And before he didn´t know that again, he would not go back there.

He was Sylar. The murderer, the killer of fathers and brothers. The deceiver. The false President. Once upon a time he´d been all of this in one person.

And now? What was he now? Maybe the same. Maybe deep down people never really changed. Not people like him. Or maybe there was another life he´d forgotten about. The one he needed to remember, in order to know who he was now. He could never be sure.

The display of the cell went dark, vanishing in the darkness of the rose garden. They would find it, he knew, and that was the last and only message he would leave behind for them.

Sylar sighed, deeply, before turning around and lifting off the ground. When he flew away into the night, he didn´t look back.

**End of Volume Six**

**...**

**Volume Seven **

– „**Redemption" –**

The team assembled at the corner across the street. The perfect spot to see everything. The street itself, the crossroad further down as well as the shopping area along this street. Mary Lightly ducked behind the corner, watching the shop on the other side closely. The door was closed but he knew, just knew, that it had been broken, that there was a man in there that didn´t belong there.

Greyson´s, the golden letters read on the window. Watches and Jewelry. Of course he was in there. As soon as he´d read the add in the yellow pages, Mary had known that Sylar would come here, earlier or later. And now the time had come. He was only one stone´s throw away. Close to the touch, so to say.

"Saunders, this is Carson, over." the squad leader radioed. "Can you see us?" He looked over the street, to the second half of the team.

"Yes." Saunders voice answered.

"Good." Carson replied, looking through his binoculars. "We have a visual on the target. He seems to be alone."

"Roger. We´re right behind you."

"Over and out."

After that everything happened too fast for Mary to keep track in detail. He only remembered vaguely, that he repeated his warning to agent Carson one more time, to be extra careful, that the man they were hunting was very dangerous and very gifted. And then the team started to move, over the street and into the shop.

Mary stayed behind, watching.

The fight started immediately, Mary could hear it, all the sounds of it. The electricity when the charges of the tasers were fired, the shots from the men´s guns, the ropes that were bolted off, to bind and restrain Sylar. And the screams of the men when he fought back.

Mary heard it, all of it, and he realized, too late, that it had been a mistake after all, to send unexperienced agents on that operation, to tag and bag a man with supernatural powers.

Without even knowing why he was doing this, he got up and hurried over the street. Maybe he could still do something. What he might be able to do, he, when all these heavily armed and trained men had failed, he didn´t know. But he had to try.

He entered the shop. Men were lying around everywhere, between scattered shelves and broken clocks. A vitrine that was once locked safely, lay in shards, shattered by Saunders body weight, the precious jewelry lying all around the groaning man. Most of his men were barely conscious anymore, just like him. Mary was not sure if any of them was really dead, but he didn´t get a chance to check. Something grabbed him and pinned him to the nearest wall. Something he couldn´t see. But, oh man, he could feel it. The pressure around his chest, holding him, at least ten inches over the ground. His feet were dangling, helplessly. And then he met the eyes of the killer.

"You." Sylar rasped lowly, stepping forward, his hand stretched out for Mary, holding him in place.

"Sylar." Mary managed to say, still struggling for balance.

Sylar stopped, only a few feet away, his eyes piercing into Mary´s soul.

"Did Mohinder tell you to come after me?" he demanded to know.

"He told us you might be dangerous." Mary confirmed. "But it was I who figured that you´d come here. A watchmaker´s shop. It´s not yours, but it resembles what you once were. And what you are now."

"I don´t know what I am anymore." Sylar blurred, suddenly angry. "No one does. And neither do you, Mary."

"I studied your case for three years, Sylar." Mary objected. "I know you, better than you might think."

"You know nothing about me."

"I found you here, didn´t I?" Mary saw a flicker in Sylar´s gaze and felt encouraged. "A soul that feels lost within itself would flee to something that is familiar." he recited his psychological knowledge. "Maybe to even go back there. To something that is more familiar than what became so complicated that it made you feel so lost. Isn´t that right, Sylar?" he held the dark gaze of the killer. "Tell me that you don´t feel it already. Is the hunger tingling? Is it knocking on your door again?"

For a moment, he seemed to get through to the killer. Sylar blinked, confused, uncertain. Then he shook his head, facing Mary, again with this furious gaze of his and Mary wondered how many of his victims had seen those eyes, just before they died.

"I hope you know that you´re playing with your life right now." Sylar said.

"I came here to stop you." Mary told him, trying to get back his hold on Sylar´s conscience. "Don´t do it, Sylar." he said. "Don´t go back there."

Again Sylar blinked, but only for a second. "You´re not the one to judge me." he rasped. "Neither are you the one to keep me from going anywhere. No matter how many men or … psychological tricks you bring with you."

He tightened his fingers, intensifying the telekinetic grip around Mary´s chest, making him gasp when the air got pressed out of his lungs. Only for a moment. Then he let go of him, dropping him to the ground.

Mary felt the impact, his own body sprawled on the floor that had been unreachable for his feet for these past few minutes. He could hear Sylar´s footsteps, slowly closing in on him. When he looked up, he saw his dark eyes right above him.

"You don´t know me a bit, Mary." Sylar spoke and after a while: "Don´t bother trying to find me again. It wouldn´t do you any good." He leaned down to him, his hands on his knees. "It´s too dark where I´m going."

With that he lowered his hand down to Mary´s face and Mary fell asleep. Later he would not be sure if he didn´t dream the whole conversation.

_To be continued …_


	22. Author's Note

**Author´s Note**

All right, so here we are. I know there are probably enough questions about this volume to get lost right from the start, but I´ll try to organize it anyway. But first things first. If you´re one of these crazy folks that read commentaries before the actual story, stop right there. Don´t come any closer. Cheaters are not welcome here.

All right then. That was that. Now here we go.

I already apologize in advance, if this Author´s Note should extend more than the others. But the story was more complicated and so I have no choice. Sorry. Okay, once again. Here we go.

What the heck? Nathan? Really? How often does this show kill someone and bring him back again? And haven´t I done that to death too? Sorry for the pun. I don´t know how often I did this by now anymore. I lost count. But honestly. This is fiction and not supposed to be realistic. As long as it´s sold well, I never cared how unrealistic something is. Science fiction anyone? Fantasy? Hello? You get my point.

But why, I guess, is a pretty fair question. Well, I´ll try to answer that one. It´s as simple as it can get. Because I could. I figured I could pull it off and I did. Somehow.

Okay maybe it´s not that simple after all. So let me explain. It all started (and please don´t laugh) with a song. "I´m Sorry" (I forgot the band´s name) One of the lines said: "I can´t go back. I can´t change anything." And well, having this twisted mind of mine, one day I thought about Sylar while hearing this. For no reason at all. All these things (murders) he´d done and could never undo, even if he would want to (and I believe he came to a point where he would if he could, especially concerning Nathan)

But of course the past can´t be undone. Or can it? Why, of course, we have a time traveler.

Only Hiro would never do that. He´d sworn to never mess with the past again, changing the past to endanger the future. But who says it has to change anything if we went back to save Nathan? There are always ways. We all saw "Back to the Future" or "First Contact" or all those time travel movies that are out there (and honestly if you haven´t, you should) They all showed us that it is possible to go back and change things without screwing up the future. You only need to be extra careful and extra accurate.

So I figured, I could do it. And I took the risk. Or rather I let Hiro take the risk.

Making him do it, was tricky and I knew there was only one way to convince him. By not giving him a choice. Just like the summary said. The only thing that ever made Hiro do anything against his will, was the threat to the life of his girlfriend Charlie. Everyone who remembers the show will know what I´m talking about.

So I threatened someone too. Only it was Matt Parkman´s family. The fact that Greg Grunberg had had a guest role on Psych was something that almost messed up my plot but I thought of something to explain his role there. I managed to explain Sendhil Ramamurthy´s role, and so I had no choice but to explain this one too. I believe I managed a pretty decent explanation, even if it wasn´t the best I could have done. I only hope that Zachary Quinto won´t have a guest role on Psych one day. Although I´m sure it would be hilarious, knowing the writers of Psych. But it would challenge my explaining skills to a point of overload. Although … maybe … but that doesn´t belong here. So far it hasn´t happened.

Okay back to the point. Poor Matt. He just never had a chance. I needed him in the story. How else to convince Nathan about the whole plot Shana made up for him?

About her: Of course I needed some more for my plot than the already very interesting (and admittedly insane idea) to bring back Nathan. But there must be a reason for the things that happen. So I tried to figure out, why someone should want this. A villain of course, because we need antagonists. And since the story was already made of emotional decisions from the start, I ran with it. Let her reasons be as emotional as it can be. That´s typical for a woman right?

Revenge. I think it felt pretty organic, to connect her to what Nathan did in season 3. Of course some people would remember that. Nothing stays buried forever and someday the past will come back to bite you in the butt. To Nathan´s (and the President´s) bad luck, this person was crazy enough to pull all these strings, plus she was very resourceful.

Figuring her out was not the easiest thing. For being the villainess, who practically made this story possible, she refused to be in it, for quiet a while. I honestly needed to look for her, to get her into some scenes. As if she was hiding from me.

Her name was always there though. I knew from the start, that her name was Shana. Don´t know why.

The whole concept of the story was (or turned out like that) to split it in three parts. The first was the mystery of Matt´s and Hiro´s disappearing. I never intended to fool anyone about them being dead. It was a classic example of distracting attention, so no one would see coming who my surprise guest-star would be.

For the writing of that part in the hotel, I got some inspiration (just like Shawn) from "Ocean´s Eleven" There are videos on Youtube called "Petrelli´s Eleven, Twelve and Thirteen" featuring the trailers for the movies, but with the Heroes cast. It´s hilarious. You should check it out.

Maybe the fact that those videos inspired me, was the reason why I managed it to write some funny stuff for a change. Usually that´s not my thing, but the feedback I got for that undercover-spy-part said, I really hit the mark this time. And I laughed a lot while writing it too.

I just found it hilarious to imagine how Bennet for the first time, encounters Shawn and Gus at work. And while Lassiter already knows to expect nothing less from them, he would panic and suffer about their behavior. Even Sylar was startled at a few things (Shawn jumping over the counter) and that was hilarious too. I also wanted to show a few similarities between the pairing that is Shawn and Gus and the second one: Sylar and Mohinder. You might have noticed that, when Bennet watched the two teams on the monitors, arguing.

The second part of the story, contained time travel. Of course. I hope I managed a decent transition between it all. After Lassie and Jules picked up Shawn and Gus and led them away from the hotel security, I figured they´d go back upstairs to the suite. To let Shawn fall behind and eventually vanish, might be slightly interpretable, but I think it worked to explain why he wasn´t there twice when they got back, later in the third part. For Sylar and Mohinder it was easier. They just walked away, forced to do this by Matt. Out of the frame out of time. Or at least you can believe that. After Matt and Hiro returned from their mission, everything was changed anyway, so I guess it can work.

The alternate reality: What would have happened? We´re leaving the Psych world behind for a while, because this is entirely Heroes plot.

What would have happened if Nathan hadn´t been revealed as dead, as it happened with the funeral? If Sylar had taken control and never changed, as it happened while he and Peter were trapped in that wall universe?

He wouldn´t have helped Peter to stop Samuel for a start. Why would he? He might have instead killed him, to take his power. And Emma. Maybe he would have let the catastrophe happen, ready to offer support, as Nathan, later on. After the world was numb with shock and fear.

He´d take advantage of it and make himself the savior in the eyes of the world. The leader. Eventually President. Like it happened in "Five years gone" Or similar to it. Only my version of this alternate timeline was a little less dark. Because at this point Sylar had already managed a certain degree of change. So I figured he´d try to gain the same, as he tried to gain, when he tried to steal Shawn´s life. He´d try to build up something for himself. A home, and a family.

And that brings us back to Santa Barbara.

Having initiated a program to test and identify special people, they´d travel around the country, to find them all. And being Sylar, he´d want to be around, in case there should be an interesting ability to get. And so they found out about Shawn not being psychic, as he´d always claimed. Instead … And here we get to the point that gave me a big headache.

As some of you might know, I had some trouble wrapping my mind around the possibility of Shawn having an ability. I never wanted this, and I´m still not comfortable with the idea. But some of you talked into me quiet a bit and at least one of you, came up with a theory that was so convincing, I just couldn´t ignore it.

I´d like to quote a few of these things, so you´ll get an idea what his power is, because I don´t understand it half as good as the writer of this e-mail.

_"I personally think Shawn would be a good influencer type. He kind of already does it, though it is very subtle in the way he does it. An influencer would be a mental skill set in suggesting a person or animal into doing what you want and if the power is strong enough the person being influenced wouldn't even think twice about doing what the influencer says or wants them to do._

_I think this ability manifest minimally and only hugely appears when Shawn is in danger. So he unintentionally influences the person with the gun to literally miss the shot or get caught up in his psychic act so that they confess to the crime. But it could greatly affect the people who are around him the most and is probably the reason Gus doesn't put up much of a fight when Shawn plans something crazy. I think even Henry, Lassiter, and Juliet are falling into being long-term influenced. Just by looking at how fast they accepted Shawn and the exposure rate they have to Shawn … _

_So what part of the brain is involved in influencing someone? Speech pattern and eye contact are big on influencing and something Shawn does all the time. So add the frontal lobe for speech. The temporal lobe also has some function in speech too. Also add in the amygdala. (in the brainstem) It's involved in emotions (fear) and memory. All those should light up like Christmas trees when really activated._

_Which side of the brain should light up? I'll leave that to you to decide. Right side =creativity and left side = logic_

_An added note on analyzing abilities: Juliet's ability is more or less coming from a hormone or group of hormones she is secreting that causes the people around her to love her. [It's why Sylar was so sensitive to it] It's not a mental ability and can't be controlled unless you know the right buttons to push to activate it (or in Juliet's case turn it off). If her ability was heightened she could start to influence people just like Shawn, except hers would be more focused on people pleasing her and it would be out of her control. Way out of her control."_

Let´s take a moment to applaud this outpour of scientific thinking. Isn´t that insanely detailed? Just the fact that someone put so much thinking into something I made up, totally made my day. It still does. So Kudos. I could never write something like that.

But now you know. Or not. I can´t tell. Let´s say I hope so. But Shawn has an ability now, always had one, even though I didn´t want it. But I made his ability a very subtle one, so I think I found a middle way. So it is there, but it could as well be not there. You get my point. It´s totally chemical and he can´t really control it. Just like Juliet. It´s like a gift you use subconsciously. It comes to you when you need it, but you can´t call it. That´s how I understand it. Good enough?

Back to the plot. The time travel part was to a great deal inspired by two really great movies, that I already referred to in the story. Butterfly Effect and Frequency. Although I didn´t refer to the later as much as it deserves. The part where Shawn regains his memory at the funeral, came from that movie (if you haven´t seen it, honestly: Watch it. It´s not so much about time travel as it is about family and friendship and love in general. A really great movie, exciting from start to the end)

I also have to talk about the butterfly in Shawn´s room. That butterfly actually existed. It sat in the staircase of my apartment house. For months! And I´m absolutely serious about that. I thought it was dead and that alone was enough reason for me to bring it into the story. Just as a symbol. But just like in the story, it turned out it wasn´t dead at all. One day I found it sitting on the window, back to life, and I almost freaked out over it. After I overcame that shock I took it and carried it outside to let it fly, like Shawn did it.

So there you see. Life is crazier than most stories can be. At least for me it was.

Let´s get to the last part of the story before we lose ourselves in pages and pages of ranting.

Saving the President from a brain controlled Nathan.

After Sylar and Mohinder kinda broke up their partnership over those trust issues the good doctor felt after the whole time alteration (it´s not easy to deal with that many memories of deception, so I honestly hope you guys don´t blame him) I finally got a chance to let Sylar and Shawn team up for a while. I wanted to try that for quiet a while but never got a chance to do it. Finally it happened. And I very much liked it that Shawn acted just like always, only this time it was Sylar who suffered his refusal to listen when he´s told to stay put.

Of course I had to quote from Twenty-Four a lot at this last part, because of so many reasons. First: Matt was like Jack Bauer because his family had been kidnapped. Second the plot was to save the President and third because Zachary Quinto was on Twenty-Four once. Just like Tim Omundson, so that was an added bonus.

And I took inspiration for that part by watching Twenty-Four´s  
season seven, the part where the Terrorists take over the White House. Yeah, it´s true. It sounds crazy and it probably is. But it´s a TV show and it´s exciting. And my own plot is not less crazy than that, so I think it´s okay.

I tried to get the 24-feeling of urgency into the last chapter by switching back and forth between the different parties involved. I hope I managed that. And I hope I didn´t do too wrong about the real security of the White House. Because I´m pretty sure in real life they would have been spotted much earlier than in my version.

I also wanted you guys to forget about Sylar, at least for a while until everything was already over. Hope I managed that too. Because in my mind, after that last conversation with Mohinder he might have decided that he indeed can´t trust himself enough to go through with his plan. After Matt already took care of everything, there was no need for him being there any longer. So he just left.

An added side note: Nathan´s line to Peter, when he tells him "I´m still here" was another direct quote from "Frequency". The one line that always gave me goosebumps in the movie and I just wanted it to be there. I figured it appropriate for the reunion of the two brothers.

I personally liked the ending for Sylar, more than I could have liked a happy ending. I just believe that it´s not always possible to make up, just before the story ends. And this time, it was just not meant to be.

But let´s not jump to conclusions. There´s still another story coming up. And the title, as sappy and classic as it sounds, just claimed to be the title. I thought about others but somehow it didn´t allow me to replace it. So that´s how the story goes. But don´t think you know what´ll come. To know that you´ll have to wait and read.

* * *

**So thanks again for taking my ranting so patiently and most of all, thanks for reading and for being so faithful. Don´t forget to review ;-)**


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